Ever After
by QtipKiwis
Summary: Follow our heroes as they learn to live after Voldemort. Staying very close to canon. I accidently deleted this story. This is a reposting. I have revised most of the chapters. But it's the exact same story as the old Ever After. Read, review and enjoy.
1. Starting Anew

Starting Anew

Starting Anew

The sun was halfway up the sky now. Its red-golden light streamed over Hogwarts' grounds, illuminating the remains of last night's horrifying battle. Three moving figures could be seen near the lake; walking back from a marble-topped tomb.

Harry, Ron and Hermione entered through the great oak doors, careful not to step on the blood that was shed on the doorstep. They walked towards the Great Hall in silence. Suddenly Hermione stopped. She was holding Ron's hand. He stopped too. Harry kept walking for a few moments more, until he noticed that his two best friends had stopped walking. Looking back at them, he realised that they were staring at something ahead of him in the corridor. He looked ahead, and saw red. Red hair swinging as a petite figure slowly walked to the opposite end of the corridor. He looked back at Hermione. She nodded towards the figure and whispered "Go on." He nodded back at her, locked eyes with Ron; asking for silent permission. He grimaced at him, and then shrugged. Harry took that as a reluctant yes, but a yes nonetheless. Turning around Harry ran to catch up to the swishing red hair, stopping only to look back at his friends. They were... embracing now. Smiling he hurried to catch up to her.

"Ginny." His voice was barely above a whisper.

She jumped, hurriedly wiping her tears. It wouldn't do to let anyone see her crying. She hadn't realised anyone was behind her. Turning around she almost bumped into him.

Harry nervously looked down at her, hoping that she would say something first. Something to indicate she was okay.

"Ginny," he started again. She looked expectantly up at him, tears threatening to flood her eyes. He couldn't bear their separation for even a second more. He wrapped his arms around her. She sobbed into his chest, holding him tightly. And in spite of his promise to himself, to be strong - for her - he felt tears sliding down his cheeks and onto her auburn hair.

She sniffed. And asked in a small voice, "C-could you... not w-wander off any-anymore? Just stay with me. Please?" Sobs interrupted her request.

He nodded and led her towards a corner of the corridor. He pulled her down with him, leaning his sore back against the rough wall. Ginny melted into him, her body shook with renewed sobs.

Harry cried too. Cried for Fred, Lupin, Tonks, his parents, Sirius, Hedwig, Dobby, Colin, Dumbledore. And Snape. He cried for all the brave souls that had perished to achieve this common goal. For all the people that had given their lives to achieve this peace. He cried for them all. Tears ran down his thin, pale face.

There was something intimate about crying with someone. He had never felt this close – emotionally – to Ginny. Her breath was coming in short little gasps; her arms were tight around his neck. Harry bathed in the glow of her sweet-smelling hair, rubbing small circles on her back in an attempt to calm her. She cried in a most desperate way, clinging to him as if she was afraid he'd disappear. He assured her of his constancy. He would never leave her again. She asked for his word, a promise. He gave it to her. He was willing to give everything for her. His life, even.

Ginny stopped sobbing when he said that. Indignant, she said he needn't die for her. She said he didn't even need to _pretend _he was dead to save her. The tears threatened to overflow again. He begged her not to cry, it made him want to cry. And he had to protect his reputation. She laughed feebly at the joke, wiped the tears from her face. Her face became instantly whiter; the tears had cleaned off some of the dirt.

The spot on his T-shirt where her head had rested was wet with her tears. Harry looked at her, _really_ looked at her, after what seemed like years and years of only envisioning her. Her wide honey-brown eyes were red, there were tear tracks on her flushed cheeks, her freckles stood out more than usual against her pale skin, her hair was singed in places, and the tip of her nose was red. He thought she looked like a goddess.

She blinked twice, looked at him and said, in that same small, timid voice "Was it necessary? Playing d-dead? Couldn't there have been some other p-plan?"

Harry shook his head gravely and sighed. "Would you understand, Gin, if I explained everything later?"

She nodded. She put her arms around his neck, hesitantly. Harry complied with her silent request; he lowered his head for a kiss. After almost a year it was like finding a home he'd long lost. Harry was reluctant to pull away, but he did; they needed to get back to the Great Hall, Mrs. Weasley must be looking for them by now. Ginny made a sound of protest and pulled him back down again. He didn't resist.

* * *

Ron watched his best mate walk down the corridor with his little sister. Hermione squeezed his hand.

"She'll be ok. Harry's with her now"

He looked at her: her bushy, frizzed hair, her delicate nose, her high cheekbones. He wondered how he had never noticed her before his fourth year…

"I know. But I'm just worried. This stuff…" he waved his hand around meaning the death and destruction. "It doesn't usually... She doesn't cry. She's strong but… she – she looks so small and scared now."

Hermione smiled sadly at him. "We've all seen horrors we'll never forget, Ron. It'll take time for the scars to heal. But they will. Eventually. People move on, with the help of their friends and family."

Ron sighed, "C'mon, then. Let's get to the Great Hall, I s'pose Harry's not coming back anytime soon. Merlin only knows what he's doing with her."

Hermione laughed and hand-in-hand they walked into the Great Hall. The Weasleys were surrounding Fred's body. And Ron realised, with a painful jolt, that he'd never hear Fred's voice again. Never see the twins together. From now, it was only George. Only one. The dread of the last 24 hours was finally settling in. And even though You-Know-Who had been vanquished it felt as if it was the same as before. Ron couldn't help but ask himself if this wasn't a fantasy his mind had cooked up in his sleep.

Just before entering the Great Hall, Hermione reached up and kissed him. And Ron answered himself. No, this was as real as it gets.


	2. At the Burrow

At the Burrow

Harry woke with a start. Someone – or something – was looking over him. He looked up into the huge eyes of his house elf.

"Kreacher!"

"Everyone is looking for master and his little Weasley girl. Kreacher came to find master."

Harry blushed. He had not missed Kreacher saying 'his little Weasley girl'. He wondered if Mr. and Mrs. Weasley knew. Had Ginny told them? He had asked himself the same question a coupe of times this past year. But he had dismissed it as being trivial, in light of events that followed after his and Ginny's breakup. It didn't seem so trivial now.

"Alright then, we're coming, are they in the Great Hall?"

"No, and master should hurry. The Weasleys should be leaving for the Burrow in a few minutes."

"The Burrow!" Harry yelped. "Aren't we repairing Hogwarts?"

Kreacher didn't answer but said, "Master will follow Kreacher. Kreacher will take him to the Weasleys."

Harry looked down at the sleeping Ginny. "Ginny?"

She stirred in his arms, mumbled something indistinct and held on to him tighter.

Harry said gently, "Ginny, we need to go, we're going back to the Burrow."

She sat up dozily; her hair was mussed. She rubbed her eyes and said, "We're going home? What about – Kreacher!" She looked surprised to see the house elf there. She threw an inquisitive glance at Harry.

"Yeah. Tell you later." Harry stood up then helped Ginny up.

Kreacher looked at them with his tennis-ball eyes and said, "If Master and his Weasley girl will follow me."

Ginny leaned over and muttered, "What? I'm not a blood-traitor anymore?"

Harry sighed, "Long story, I'll explain later".

Ginny grinned and nodded. Together they walked past the Great Hall and through the front door, over the grounds and, Harry realised, towards Hagrid's hut. Ginny slipped her hand into his just before they entered Hagrid's hut.

The Weasleys (minus Fred, thought Harry with a hollow feeling in his stomach), Hermione, Hagrid, Fleur and McGonagall were sitting around the table, on the chairs and the bed in Hagrid's hut. When Harry and Ginny entered Mrs.Weasley got up from her perch on a Hagrid-sized armchair and hugged them, whispering a teary _Thank you_ in Harry's ear. Hagrid nodded proudly at him. Harry saw Mr. Weasley and Bill looking at his and Ginny's linked hands with strikingly similar expressions on their faces. Harry dropped her hand; he didn't think it wise to be so open about their relationship in front of her parents. Not yet anyways, everyone would know soon enough.

McGonagall cleared her throat. She had finished the tea that Hagrid had hastily prepared. "There will be a… service tomorrow at noon. Near the lake, where the damage is least. Madam Pomfrey has been taking care of the minorly injured and the worst ones have been taken to St. Mungo's. Everyone is being sent to their respective homes. The ones who – ". Her breath caught, she brushed away her tears impatiently and continued, "h-have nowhere to go will be living in the dormitories that have not been damaged, extra beds are being put in undamaged classrooms as we speak. Anyone who is able and willing will come tomorrow after the service to help restore Hogwarts to its former glory. It shall re-open, no matter what, on September first." She stopped, bowing her head. Then added as an afterthought, "The death toll is, so far, 43. The bodies are in the Great Hall for now."

Mr. Weasley got up from the table, "We'll come for the service tomorrow. Me and the boys will stay to help repair –" he stopped. Harry had jumped up.

"I want to help."

McGonagall started to speak but Mrs. Weasley cut her off, "Absolutely NOT. You three, George and Ginny will go straight to bed after breakfast. You will only come out of bed for the service." They opened their mouths to protest but Mrs. Weasley quelled their protest with a scorching stare.

George, who was sitting on the bed with his head in his hand, looked up at this. His eyes were bloodshot and he had a lost look in his face. He looked strange without Fred by his side. "Have they caught all the Death Eaters?"

Bill shook his head, "Some have been caught, and some surrendered. Most of them went into hiding. They might be abroad." He smiled sadly at his brother. Everyone knew which Death Eater George wanted, Rookwood.

Harry sat in the warm kitchen of the Burrow, a mug of steaming coco in his hands. Everyone (except for Bill and Fleur) had apparated here; Ginny had taken a portkey with George. They had taken turns at using the washroom and shower and Mrs. Weasley had made breakfast for them.

Harry looked around the kitchen. It had been a bit dusty at first, but a quick flick of Mrs. Weasley's wand had fixed that. Everyone was seated around the magically elongated table. The Weasleys took turns staring miserably at Fred's unoccupied chair. There had been an awkward moment for Harry and Hermione when Mrs. Weasley had burst into tears while setting the plates. They felt like they were intruding upon the Weasleys' family grief. When Harry mentioned to Ginny that maybe he should go stay at Grimmauld Place for the night, she had given him a glare to rival Mrs. Weasley's.

Slowly everyone had drifted off to their bedrooms (Ginny and Hermione, as always, were sharing). He had stayed. He wanted to think. Ever since Harry was eleven his life seemed to revolve around Voldemort's plans. Now that Voldemort was dead, Harry wondered what his plans for himself were. He knew he still wanted to be an Auror, but he hadn't finished his NEWT's. And Chosen One or not, he wasn't sure the Ministry would accept him. He supposed that he'd have to move out of the Burrow eventually, he didn't want to trouble Mrs. Weasley further.

He wondered how much gold he had left in his vault at Gringotts. He had never worried about money, but now that he was faced with having to support himself (food, furniture, and the like) he wondered what job he would get. Should he move to Grimmauld Place? He wasn't sure he could handle the memories. Or should he buy an apartment? There were nice apartments in Diagon Alley, near Gringotts. And he'd be within apparating distance of the Burrow, and Ginny.

Ginny. She deserved another chapter in his thoughts entirely. Would Mr. and Mrs. Weasley have a problem with him dating their only daughter? He'd have to read the chapter in _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches _about the girl's parents.

Harry sighed. Getting up from the table he deposited the mug in the sink, which barked rudely at him to "clean up your mess you ugly hag" (he supposed he had disturbed its dry surface). Ignoring the sink, he walked on auto-pilot to Ron's attic bedroom, too exhausted to think about anything. Opening the door, he was met with a most disturbing sight. Hermione (in her nightgown) lay curled up with Ron on his bed. Harry noticed that Ron's maroon pyjama top was thrown haphazardly on the floor. Wanting to vomit, Harry flicked through his trunk, grabbed his pyjamas and practically ran out of the room. He changed in the washroom and had started to make his way down to the couch, when an idea hit him.

Running back up the stairs he knocked softly on Ginny's door. He heard a muffled "Come in". Harry opened the door feeling like a debonair. Ginny's back was to the door. She was at her desk looking at something.

"Thank Merlin, you came back!" she said her back still to him. "I thought you'd stay with Ron forever, honestly, just _what _were you two _doing_?"

Feeling thoroughly confused Harry opened his mouth to speak before being cut off by Ginny.

"For Merlin's sake Hermione, now is not the time for sex! Mum will have a fit!"

Harry looked horrified at Ginny's back. What was she talking about? "Ginny?"

Ginny shrieked and fell off the chair. Laughing Harry helped her up. She blushed prettily and mumbled, "I thought you were Hermione".

Harry grinned, "I figured as much. They fell asleep you know. I don't think they… did what you thought they were doing."

"Oh. So um… why are you here?"

Harry scratched the back of his head sheepishly, how should he say this? "I don't have anywhere to sleep… all the rooms are taken. If you don't mind, maybe I could, you know?"

Ginny smiled cheekily at him. "Ok. But you'll have to move back to Ron's room before everyone's up tomorrow, mum will –"

"Have a fit. I know." Harry said.

Ginny nodded. She looked suddenly uncomfortable, "um. Do you want to sleep on the floor, or…?" She kept the other option unvoiced. They hadn't gone too far when they'd been dating last year. Although those days when they had jumped into a broom closet had given Harry plenty to dream about. And Harry wasn't sure if Ginny was ready for _that_ yet.

"It's up to you," he said nonchalantly, his heart was hammering in his chest.

* * *

Harry settled into camp cot that Ginny had fixed for him. He was exhausted, it was almost 11 in the morning yet Harry couldn't sleep. The room was dark, due to the spells that had been put on the windows.

There was a painful jolt in his chest every time his thoughts drifted to Fred, Lupin, and Tonks. But Harry felt giddy every time he looked up at the figure on the bed above him.

There was a rustling of blankets and Ginny's voice carried through the air. "Harry?"

"Yea?"

"Would you… would you mind c-coming here? I wouldn't ask, only I can't sleep. I keep thinking of… things."

Her voice was small and timid again. Harry hated how she sounded scared. He got up and sat down beside Ginny on the bed. She took his hand.

"Sleep here, with me."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, please. Just don't… do anything"

Harry nodded, slipping in under the covers. Ginny snuggled up to him, putting an arm on his chest. He slipped his hand under her head, which was resting on the crook of his neck and shoulder. Kissing her softly on the forehead, Harry murmured "Your mum will kill me."

Ginny giggled softly into his chest, "Not to mention my brothers."

"Ouch."

Harry settled into a dreamless sleep, trying not to think of Fred and what he would've said about Harry's newfound interest.

**A/N:**

_Some of you may read this and realise that this isn't a new story. And you would be right! I accidently deleted Ever After when I was uploading one of the revised EA chapters. I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, and I assure you that by tomorrow all the 21 chapters of Ever After will be uploaded. _

_Now, I dont care if you've already reviewed on the old Ever After, I expect you to review this too! I had 380 reviews the last time and I want just as many (if not more) now. To all my old readers, I'm terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but rest assured that it will be a right pain in the ass to upload 21 chapters in 2 days. I'll try my hardest to finish uploading everything before my flight back to Vancouver (I'm still in Australia) which is on the 31st._

_Thanks,_

_Qtip. _


	3. A Day of Rest

A Day of Rest

Harry awoke with the unfamiliar feeling of something small and warm pressed against him. He opened his eyes, looked down and was met with a blurry shock of red. Harry felt for his glasses on the side table, finding them he shoved them on his nose. He looked down at Ginny. Her hair was spread out on the pillow and over his chest, her steady breath hot on his neck. The sun was setting (they had slept through most of the day); its golden rays reflected off her hair, making her look like a fiery angel. He winced at his choice of words. When had he started to become such a romantic? Shaking his head he looked at the clock on the wall opposite the bed. As he did, he noticed another redhead staring at him from the slightly ajar door. He had to fight an impulse to jump off the bed.

George raised an inquisitive eyebrow, a small grin on his face. Harry was glad George found it funny; it was nice to see him with a smile on his face.

"What are you doing?" Harry blurted out.

"I should be asking you that," George retorted.

Harry cringed visibly. "It's not what it looks like."

"What is it then? Care to explain?"

"I…" Harry mumbled something about Ron's room being full and having nowhere to sleep.

George raised his eyebrow again; he seemed to have gotten the gist of what Harry was trying to say. "So you thought you'd just flounce in and sleep with my little sister?"

"I wasn't sleeping with her!"

George raised his ever-present eyebrow again. "What would you call being on the bed with her then?"

Harry stuttered. "I… We… She!" Harry fell silent.

"As much as I'm enjoying your commentary of the pronouns of our wonderful English language, I must ask you to stop." He grinned mischievously at Harry. "Would you like a lesson on the birds and the bees?"

Harry turned red and mumbled a soft 'no'.

George looked at the sleeping Ginny, "if you hurt her…"

"I won't, I won't!"

George gave him a threatening look and said "Mum wants you two down for dinner." And he closed the door with a definitive _click_.

Harry sighed. He was, very soon, going to be dead At least he had gotten rid of Voldemort.

* * *

They were sitting around the living room, listening to the news that was flooding in from all over the country. Kingsley Shacklebolt had been named Minister of Magic. The Aurors were working hard to bring down the Death Eaters. They wanted anyone who had information about _anything _concerning the Death Eater's whereabouts to come forward. Rita Skeeter was starting a new book, _Hogwarts: the Final Battle. _

During dinner, Harry had gathered from the looks he got from Charlie and Percy (Ron had refrained from glaring at him, presumably because his brothers had already gotten to him about Hermione) that only the brothers knew about his rendezvous with Ginny in her room. He was grateful for this because he didn't think he could deal with her parents right now.

He wasn't quite right on Ginny's parents not knowing. Mr. Weasley called him in to the kitchen to 'help with the drinks'. As they got out the glasses and Mr. Weasley poured drinks into them, he said conversationally, "I hear you and Ginny are quite an item now."

Harry froze, "Mr. Weasley I –"

He shook his head ruefully, "No Harry, I'm not here to chide you. I – we. We think that it's great. Everyone needs someone. Especially you. And Ginny. Everyone's been through so much; it's nice to have someone isn't it?"

Unable to find the right words to say anything, Harry simply nodded. Mr. Weasley smiled kindly at him. His smile did not quite reach his eyes. But according to the clock everyone was still in Mortal Peril.

They went back into the living room with the drinks. The mood was not as happy as before. And Harry immediately knew why. The voice on the radio was solemnly reading out the names of the deceased. George was looking forlornly out the window, Hermione' head was in her hands, Mrs. Weasley was sobbing into her robes, Ron and Charlie were looking miserably in her direction, and Percy looked immensely guilty. Harry's heart wrenched, tears were pouring down Ginny's face.

He helped Mr. Weasley distribute the drinks then went to sit next to Ginny. She leaned her head against his shoulder, and Harry put an arm around her. They were going to get through this.

* * *

Ron looked threateningly at the mirror in his room. If it said one more thing…

"Tuck in your shirt! You don't look as handsome as you think!"

He glared murderously at his mirror. "Oi! Shut up or I'll sell you!"

The mirror fell silent.

There was a soft giggle from the doorway. Ron whipped his head around. There was Hermione, wearing her black dress robes, looking beautifully somber. He grinned at her, "You look great!"

She smiled even more hugely at him. "You know, you_ do_ look a little bit handsome."

Tucking in his shirt, Ron grinned. "Shall we go down?"

She held out her hand shyly. Ron happily took it, and they made their way down the stairs.

* * *

Harry stood before Mrs. Weasley. It was his turn to be 'inspected'. His hair was being flattened down, his shirt tucked in, his robes straightened, the invisible smudge on his cheek being wiped off. It felt wonderful to be inspected in such a loving way. Ginny, Charlie, Percy, and George were on the couch amusedly watching their mother's attempt at flattening Harry's hair.

"Shall we go than?"

Harry looked around. Ron, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley had come down.

They walked to the hill where Mr. and Mrs. Delacour had apparated to for Bill's wedding. The enchantments and safety shields were still on the Burrow; just as a precaution until the Death Eaters were all caught and shipped off to Azkaban (the dementors had returned there, there was too much happiness around the country now).

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led the way, Charlie, Percy and George behind them, Ginny and Ron were having a quiet argument, and Harry and Hermione (who was breathing heavily) brought up the rear. When they got to the top Mr. Weasley looked around, seeing as there was no one there, he took Ginny's hand and with a _pop!_ apparated. Taking his cue, everyone else did the same.

They apparated just outside Hogwarts' grounds. Walking to the gate they saw something they weren't entirely prepared for. Hundreds of people were crowding the gate, trying to get in. There were hundreds more inside the grounds. Mr. Weasley looked at Harry, "Better put a Disillusionment Charm on yourself, son." Agreeing completely with him, Harry did as he was told. He'd take the charm off once he got inside, although he didn't much fancy all the staring and gawping he'd have to go through. The Weasleys and Hermione, taking a deep breath, pushed through the crowd to get to the gate.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter franchise.


	4. In Memoriam

In Memoriam

The Weasleys were at the very front row of the service. Harry had tried to sit at the very back, in an effort to give them some space, but Mrs. Weasley had given him a fierce – but teary – glare. So, Harry found himself between Ginny and Charlie.

It seemed that the whole of Hogsmaede had turned up, there were wizards from all over the country, and some from abroad too. It was like Dumbledore's funeral all over again, but with ten times the people. People were sitting on – not just the chairs – but on blankets, transfigured chairs or just standing around. Harry didn't mind. All that mattered was that they were here. To pay their last respects to all the brave witches and wizards who had given their lives for something they all believe in.

Hagrid and Grawp were here too, both sitting on the ground, behind everyone. A little blonde girl had cried when she had first seen them. But had now started to giggle as Grawp took her in his palm and swung her back and forth. Hagrid was watching this with a happy gleam in his eye.

Despite the weather – which was clear, sunny, and breezy – the mood was somber. Everyone was silent as Kingsley Shacklebolt and McGonagall took to the stage. There was a podium before them. Kingsley stood to talk first. He said in his deep, rumbling voice, "We are gathered here today, to honor those who gave their lives, so that the wizarding world can have its much-needed peace. Their bravery and persistence, even at the hands of failure and sure-death, is unaccounted for. I can't begin to thank them for what they have done. I'm sure that we are all mourning them. But they died fighting for what they believe in. They died protecting their loved ones. And I know that, wherever they are, they would want us to be happy." He nodded at the audience, and with a sadl smile on his face, sat down.

Harry looked around, many of the audience were crying. Mrs. Weasley was being comforted by her husband, he was crying too. Ron was holding Hermione, who was sobbing into his chest. Fleur was standing next to Bill, tears running down her beautiful face. Harry looked to his right. Ginny was staring straight ahead, her face was shining with tears, but she was no longer crying. He put an arm around her (Charlie looked at him from the corner of his eye) and faced the front again.

McGonagall got up from her seat. She was wearing a long cloak over what looked like a majestic 18th century gown. Her eyes met his, and he smiled encouragingly at her. The corners of her thin mouth twitched upwards.

As she began her speech as Hogwart's acting Headmistress, Harry's mind drifted, he was no longer listening. He wondered where Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus… where all his friends where. He knew they had come. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed something; dirty blonde hair shining in the sunlight. Turning his head slightly he saw Luna and Neville. She was staring dreamily at the podium. Neville's eyes met his, and Neville grinned crookedly. There was a faint scar on his cheek.

Harry turned to face the front again. McGonagall was still talking.

"– if the families wouldn't mind, we'd like to bury the deceased next to the lake, near Dumbledore's grave."

They had all agreed, the night before, that it was a good idea to enclose an area next to Dumbledore's grave. If the families of the deceased (all those who had died in the battle) agreed, the deceased would be buried there. Next to Dumbledore, and people that died fighting for what they all believed was right.

A reporter had written an article about Snape's true allegiance – having briefly interviewed Harry, Ron, and Hermione after the battle – which was posted in the Daily Prophet. Harry had decided – now that Snape's true face had come forward – that Snape should be buried in the enclosure too.

Turning to the cleared space, Kingsley and McGonagall had raised their wands in unison. The deceased had already been buried – their epitaphs written, flowers placed – in the enclosure. Now Kingsley made a gate. At the very end of the enclosure was a wall. Made of black marble, it rose 11 feet off the ground, the names of the people who had given their lives fighting etched onto its surface. There was a paragraph explaining the reason behind the wall, about Lord Voldemort and the Chosen One, and all the brave people that helped make peace possible.

Taking a deep breath, Harry removed his hand from around Ginny's shoulders and stood up. He wanted to speak. He wanted to thank the survivors, and the families of the deceased. He wanted them to know, that without their help and support, he would've been long dead. Ginny squeezed his hand, reassuringly.

* * *

The service had just finished. He'd untangled himself from his 'fan girls' (as Ginny so nicely put it). He had talked to Neville, Luna, Dean, Seamus, Lavender; he'd even had a short, awkward conversation with Cho. He had mingled with the crowd. Hagrid had re-introduced him to Grawp, who had bent down and held out his enormous hand. The Weasleys and Hermione had gone off to restore Hogwarts; he would join them in a moment.

He looked at the wall. The black marble was shiny, his own reflection blinked back at him. He read the names, running his hand over them. He sighed. So many people... Because of him. But it wasn't in vain. Their parents, children, siblings, loves; all had a better life now. A more peaceful place in which to be brought up.

"It's not your fault you know."

Harry looked 'round. Andromeda, Tonks' mother, was standing there with a turquoise haired Teddy in her arms. His heart pained. She had lost her daughter, her husband, her son-in-law. All in a couple of months. He wanted to say something, to comfort her. He was remorseful. But if there were ever two people in this world that were meant to die together, it was Remus and Tonks.

Instead, he smiled at her, "Can I hold him?"

She nodded and carefully handed Teddy over to him.

Harry looked down at the cooing face of his godchild. He smiled at Harry. When Harry held a finger to his hand, he grasped it tightly in his small fist. Harry grinned, he looked so much like Remus. But he had a thing for eccentric colored hair, like Tonks. Teddy's hair suddenly turned an electric blue. Harry looked up tearfully at Andromeda.

"Remus told me he had made you godfather."

Harry nodded, "I'll take care of him. Always."

Andromeda smiled. "H-he was a good boy. He loved my Dora. And Ted," she took a deep breath, steadying herself, "Ted always said they would be there for each other."

Unable to think of what to say, Harry hugged her with one arm. "Do you think I could walk with him?" Harry asked looking down at her, "just for a bit?"

She nodded, "As long as you like, son. "

"Thank you," Harry whispered, smiling gratefully at her.

Harry walked through the gate and around to the other side of the lake, away from the noise of the people. He sat on a flat rock on the bank of the lake and looked at Teddy. His hair had returned to its usual turquoise color. The baby was still grasping Harry's finger and now was attempting to put it in his mouth. Harry laughed; what would Remus have said if he saw Harry like this?

* * *


	5. Teddy

Teddy

Teddy

How would he tell him? How? How does one tell their godson about… about something like this? Harry was convinced that he must be the one to tell Teddy about the war and the dreadful part that his parents had played in it. After all, Remus had made Harry godfather for a reason. He couldn't leave it up to Andromeda, she's been through enough. Besides, Harry had time. Teddy wouldn't understand things until he was at least five. Would he ask? Would Teddy ask about his mum and dad? Would his little heart hold questions about why he was denied a chance to even see the wonderful people that had made him possible? Harry was determined to be like a father-figure to Ted. He wouldn't let Teddy feel the same neglect that Harry had had to go through. Teddy would be loved, coddled, and even spoiled if need be. He would be raised into a brave, thoughtful, loving man. Like his father.

Harry ran his hand over his scar subconsciously; it didn't – wouldn't – hurt anymore. Ever since he was little, all he'd ever wanted was a family. Someone to hold him, to tell him he was safe, to assure him that the noises outside his window were just the trees. And he'd found one, a family, in the Weasleys. They had taken him in. When he had first entered their house, they barely knew him. But they had fed him, laughed with him, and in later years, cried with him. Mrs. Weasley had first hugged him in his fourth year, and he had felt all responsibility, all of the horrors he'd faced, fall onto her shoulders. He would be like that to Teddy. He would be Teddy's shield.

Teddy was cooing and giggling and making baby noises at Harry's face. He blinked up at Harry with wide, dark chocolate-colored eyes. Harry's frown faded. He already looked so much like Remus that it was almost uncanny.

Someone was watching them. Harry could feel it. He raised his head and looked around; a gigantic eye was peering at him from the lake. The Giant Squid looked at him with an unblinking eye; it pulled its body up, raised a giant tentacle and flicked the surface of the water. Droplets of water sprinkled over him and Teddy. A drop of water splashed onto Teddy's cheek, who wrinkled his nose and sneezed. Harry raised his hand and waved at the Squid. It looked on for a moment more, and then dunked down under the water.

Harry jumped; an awful wailing sound had filled the air. He looked around for the source and realised, with a jolt that it was coming from the little blue bundle in his arms. Horrified, he looked down at Teddy. The baby's face was scrunched up and he was bawling his head off. He looked around for help, defeat the Dark Lord he might, but he'll never learn how to change diapers.

"You are hopeless."

Harry looked up.

Hermione was leaning against a tree, her arms folded, watching him with an amused expression on her face.

Harry stood up, walking in her direction, "Why is he crying?!" he asked, panicking slightly.

Hermione shook her head at him, "He's a baby, Harry. What do you expect him to do? Dance?"

"Well, no. But he was fine a moment ago. Did I do something? Am I holding him wrong? Is he hurt?"

Hermione laughed at Harry's panicked voice. "Calm down Harry, he's fine. He's probably just soiled himself."

"S-soiled himself!" He was having difficulty keeping his voice _calm. _

Hermione made a faint clicking noise with her tongue, "Give him here."

Immensely relieved, Harry handed the still wailing Teddy to her. He watched as she patted him on the back, kissing his cheek and whispering sweet nonsense into Teddy's ear. Sniffling he stopped crying and stuck his thumb in his mouth. Harry looked amazed at her. Hermione grinned and whispered "I think I'll take him to Andromeda. You need to go to the fifth floor. Ron and Ginny are there and they're looking for you."

"Thanks Hermione. You're a lifesaver."

Hermione smiled faintly. She'd heard _that _one before.

As he walked to the fifth floor he stopped here and there to greet people and help with the repairs. Hogwarts seemed to have a powerful Restoring Charm on its outer walls and the towers. He could see parts of walls zooming back into place, swerving around the heads of people. He helped repair the banister of the marble staircase and clear all the rubble away. As he walked through the fifth floor corridor he heard someone yelling his name.

"Harry! Harry! Harry! _Harry!_"

He smelled something flowery, smiling he turned and something small and red rushed into his arms. He looked down at the panting face of Ginny. Looking around to make sure no one (mainly, Ron) was there he planted a kiss on her lips. She kissed back and he threaded his hand through her hair in an attempt to make the kiss deeper. She pushed him away impatiently. Slightly shell-shocked he stared at her.

She shook her head, "There's no time!"

Harry grimaced, "I thought… we had all the time in the world?"

She raised her eyebrow, "Honestly Harry, that's not what I meant. Ron's calling you; he's in the Room of Requirement, the room where you hide things or something like that. I've got to go find a friend…" She trailed off. Standing on tip-toe she kissed him on the cheek and ran off.

Harry stared after her. He had missed her so much. Did she realise that? Did she know that his need for her had been like a constant stomach ache the months they'd been apart? And then when he'd heard that she'd tried to get the sword and been punished… Harry shook his head. Those days were over. No sense re-living them. Shaking his head once more to completely rid himself of these thoughts he started walking towards the Room of Requirement.

_I need to go to the room that you hide things in… I need to go to the room you hide things in… I need to go to the room you hide things in… _

Harry turned, he opened the door that had appeared and went in. "_Lumos_... Ron!" Harry waited for a response. The room smelled strongly of burnt wood and rubber, there were charred remains of things left from a hundred years ago. Harry wondered if he would be able to salvage any remains of the Half-Blood Prince's potions book. Harry held his wand over the burnt objects, looking for a hint of red. There. Ron was shuffling around in a pile of things inside the old wardrobe. Harry went over and stood behind Ron.

"What're we doing here exactly?"

"Looking."

"Ah. Well, that explains everything than. It would've been really annoying if you hadn't explained yourself properly."

Ron laughed, "Snape's old potions book. I'm looking for that. Now that he… turned out to be much less of a prat than we thought he was… it's only fitting."

Something twisted painfully in Harry's chest, "Right."

"HA! Jackpot." Ron exclaimed jubilantly.

Looking up from his pile of charred remains, he turned around. Ron held out the Half-Blood Prince's book. Taking it, Harry flipped through, it was mainly undamaged, some pages were torn, and others were blackened with soot or burnt. The wardrobe had protected it from most of the fire. He grinned at Ron. "You're brilliant, you are. I didn't think of the book until I came in here..."

His voice smug, Ron said, "I know."

"Harry?"

Harry was lying on a camp bed in Ron's room. It was after dinner, everyone had fallen, exhaustedly, into their respective beds. Except for Ron and Hermione, who were out in the garden somewhere. He looked up at the door. Ginny was standing there. _Shit. _Harry hastily pulled a shirt over his head. "Yea?"

Ginny blushed, "I… I can't sleep. Can we talk?"

He sat up and patted the space next to him on the bed. Ginny shook her head.

"Come with me."

Slightly intrigued, Harry followed her into the landing. She pointed at the attic door, "Can you make the ladder come down?"

Harry nodded, she couldn't do magic outside school yet, pointing his wand at the attic door he whispered, "Descendo." The rope ladder fell down. Harry went up first, and then held out a hand for Ginny's. She _tsk_ed at him.

"I can get up myself!"

Harry withdrew his hand, "Of course." The smell in the attic was slightly overpowering, the ghoul was still wearing Ron's pyjamas and still had slightly reddish hair. Harry looked around at the piles of boxes uncertainly, "You want to talk here?"

Ginny sighed, "No, Harry. I couldn't stay here for more than a minute without wanting to vomit. We are going up to the roof!"

"The roof?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Yea. I used to go up there when I was little and think."

"But, didn't you need a wand to pull down the ladder?"

"No. Not then. I used to climb up the drain pipe outside my bedroom window. I'm too big for it now," she finished a little sadly.

Harry laughed. He could just imagine little Ginny sneaking out onto the roof after everyone was asleep.

"Help me move these boxes?"

Harry levitated the boxes up and out of the way. There was a small door behind them. Ginny opened the door and motioned for Harry to follow her up. There was a small chute-like thing that led all the way up to the roof. They crawled up it to get to the roof.

Harry conjured blankets out of thin air and Ginny grabbed his hand and pulled him down on them. She curled up into him, tucking her head under Harry's chin, the spot seemed to be made for her. He held her without thinking, just feeling her breath on his neck, her heart beating in rhythm with his. She reached up and ran a hand along his cheek, kissing his collarbone softly. He bit back his moan. It was amazing what she could do to him. He kissed her lower lip, sucking on it a bit. He took her chin in his hand and gently tipped her head back and moved his lips to her neck. She suddenly pushed him away, turning and slipping out of his grip. Harry winced as she started sobbing. He tried to put his arms around her, but she shook them away.

Gaining control of herself she turned around, her eyes wide and whispered, "I can see threstals now."

Harry's heart stopped.


	6. Top of the World

Top of the World

Something constricted painfully in his chest. He hadn't wanted to hurt her like this. She should've stayed in the Room of Requirement; he should've made sure she came back. Harry looked at her, she wasn't sobbing but tears were streaming freely down her face. She didn't even bother to wipe them. Didn't she know how it hurt him to see her like this? Was she doing this on purpose? He leaned forward and pulled her into his chest. She was crying so hard, she was shaking.

"Shhh – Gin. It's alright. Look, it's over Gin, no one will ever hurt you again, I promise, Merlin, don't cry... I can't handle crying women" He whispered soothing things into her ear, rocking her back and forth.

They sat like that for a moment before Ginny said, timidly. "I had j-just stupefied this Death Eater and then I heard a scream, and then… and then. _Colin._ Poor Colin! He just _fell_..."

Harry's stomach seemed to be filled with lead. Colin. Small, squeaky, brave Colin. He'd taken a picture of him and Ginny last year. "You shouldn't have joined the battle, you should've stayed –" Harry stopped. The look on Ginny's face was enough to turn him to ice.

"What's that?" She whispered dangerously through her tears, "You wanted me to be _safe _while my friends and f-family where out there fighting? Say that again, Potter, and Merlin smite me if I don't hex you."

"Ginny –"

"No. I don't want to hear it, Harry. Stop being such a bloody hero."

Harry sighed. There was no use fighting with her when she was in a mood like this. Besides, it was over anyways. And then all of a sudden her eyes overflowed again. _Oh god, who else has she seen die? _She shook her head like she knew what he was thinking.

Wiping her face she said, "It's just... they're such majestic creatures... But the condition in which you can see them... it's so terrible..." She sobbed and then gave a hiccupy laugh. "Merlin. How Cho am I?"

Harry laughed, relieved that she was no longer crying. "You're nothing like her." He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks, and finally captured her lips. They kissed in blissful oblivion for a moment before she pulled away, gasping. Her lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed; she looked at him, her eyes wide.

"Harry, w-what are Horcruxes?"

Harry's insides turned to ice. He wondered if he should really tell Ginny _everything_. He didn't want to inflict the same horrific dreams that had haunted him ever since fourth year on her. But she kept looking at him with those wide, light brown eyes.

"Tell me please, you and Voldemort were talking about it..."

He said quietly, "Ginny, some of the things... they're really horrible. I don't want to... scare you."

Her gaze softened, she tightened her hold on his shirt. "I won't be scared. I'm with you." And she looked at him with such trust in her eyes that Harry caved.

He settled her more comfortably in his lap and leaned his back against the chimney. He started from his fourth year, when he'd seen Voldemort take his own blood and rise back to power; slowly he went through his fifth year, describing how it had felt to have Voldemort _inside _of him, his talk with Dumbledore, how he was furious, how Dumbledore had explained things to him, how he'd realised that he was _destined _to have one last, final, meeting with Voldemort.

Her eyes were wide and she seemed to be gripping his shirt tighter and tighter as he went on. But he didn't stop, if he did he might never start again, and it felt good to just lash out, to confide in someone who he knew would _never _judge.

He told her about his lessons with Dumbledore, recounting every single memory, leading up to her initial question ("what are horcruxes?"). He told her how Dumbledore had made him realise that he was quite free to turn his back on Riddle, to walk away, but Riddle would continue to set store by the prophecy and continue to hunt him, so that, in the end, they'd end up fighting each other. He explained what horcruxes were and how Riddle had sought to make six. He told her about his last excursion with Dumbledore, about the lake and the inferi, and the potion and Dumbledore, screaming, begging, and pleading like he was being tortured. He went on to describe the fake Horcrux and told her how Snape had revealed that_ he_ was the Half-Blood Prince.

Moving on to things that had happened this year, he started from their pre-mature flight from the Burrow, how the Death Eaters had found him (he explained about the Trace on Voldemort's name), then about his fight with Lupin (she looked at him ruefully), he told her Kreacher's dreadful story, and recounted their excursion into the Ministry to find Slytherin's locket. He explained about the Deathly Hallows and Xenophilius Lovegood. He left out the part about Ron walking out. He described their eventful evening in Godric's Hollow, the snake and Bathilda Bagshot. He told her about destroying the Horcrux locket (again he left out the part where it had tortured Ron; there are some things that are only meant to be between him and his best mate). He told her about being captured and taken to Malfoy Manor, about Dobby (his chest contracted painfully), retrieving Hufflepuff's cup from Gringotts, and explained about Ravenclaw's 'lost' diadem, the Fiendfyre and Crabbe's fiery death. He then went on to recount the battle from his point of view, explaining about Voldemort killing Snape and Snape's true allegiance. With a heavy heart, he recounted what he had seen in the Pensieve; and how he'd known then that he was the last Horcrux, the Horcrux that Riddle never intended to make. He faltered here, but he cleared his throat and moved on. He explained why he hadn't stopped to say goodbye, he explained how the Killing Curse Voldemort cast had rendered them both temporarily unconscious (because Riddle had killed a part of his own soul) and then went on to explain about his 'talk' with Dumbledore.

He leaned forward and looked at her. She was staring at him with a blank expression on her face. Harry felt his heart freeze. When he'd told Ron and Hermione about the prophecy and the Horcruxes, they'd been supportive. Ginny looked like she didn't understand. He hadn't wanted to alienate her... What if she was repulsed by the idea that he'd held a piece of Voldemort's soul in his hands? What if she didn't want those same hands touching her? What if –

All of a sudden, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him so hard that his back slammed against the chimney. Relieved beyond coherent words, Harry hugged her back. He gasped, his eyes watering, "Merlin, Gin, there's no point to it if you kill me now."

She laughed then whispered, "You're so brave Harry, I don't know what anyone else would've done in your place."

"They'd have fought for what was right, Gin."

She ignored this. "When Hagrid came out with your body and Voldemort said you were d-dead... I... The last thread I was hanging by... snapped. I just. I didn't know what to do. First F-Fred, then Tonks, and Lupin and... Half my year... Don't ever. _Ever. _Do that again."

"I won't Gin. I promise."

She buried her head in his chest. Harry re-arranged his arms around her waist and kissed her.

Here, on top of the Burrow with Ginny, Harry felt like he was on top of the world.

* * *

Rom watched the bushy-haired witch swing her legs back and forth. They were sitting on the swing that Ginny had insisted on when she was six. It was quite small so their bodies were pressed tightly together, not that Ron minded. There were little, yellow, canary birds floating around them (her spellwork) and Ron smelled something chocolaty in the air.

She looked up at him, a goofy grin on her face, "We should be tired..."

Ron grinned back, "But, we're not."

She laughed and leaned her head on his shoulder, her mood suddenly turned solemn. "Do you know how happy this would be? If Fred... If anyone hadn't... died?"

Ron's grin faded, "Yea. But you know what? They'd want us to be happy wouldn't they? I mean, that's what they... fought for. Happiness. Isn't it?"

Hermione nodded. They sat in silence for a minute or two before she abruptly said, "About the – the kiss..."

Ron looked away from her, uncomfortably. They hadn't had time after the battle to talk about it. When they'd come to the Burrow right after the battle, she couldn't sleep, so she'd sought comfort in him, and they'd fallen asleep together. That should be a good sign shouldn't it?

Hermione continued, "I – I really don't know what came over me. I just... I don't know. But, Ron. I really," Her breath hitched, he looked at her, she was staring at her feet, blushing. She whispered, "I really like you. I don't want to wait anymore."

Grinning madly Ron put his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her temple. She leaned in and whispered, "I take it you feel the same way?"

In response he kissed her.

Hermione inwardly grinned. She was on top of the world.

* * *

Harry kissed Ginny on the forehead and straightened up. He had just 'tucked her in' her bed. Just then the door to Ginny's room opened and Ron and Hermione entered, giggling like a couple of five-year olds. As soon as they noticed Harry and Ginny (who had now sat up in bed) they froze. Harry raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Ginny looked at Harry, then Ron and Hermione, then at Harry again and burst out laughing. Hermione followed, laughing weakly.

And Ron said, "We won't tell if you won't tell." Harry agreed. He didn't need the whole Weasley clan to know what he and Ginny'd been doing on the roof.

Hermione started to ask, "Where –"

Ginny shook her head, "Ask us no questions and we'll tell you no lies."

Grinning wildly, Harry and Ron made their way to Ron's bedroom.


	7. Letters and Proposals

Letters and Proposals

Harry entered the kitchen of the Burrow next morning to find it in chaos. Everywhere he looked there were letters; it seemed as if the whole stock of Flourish and Blott's parchment was strewn around the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley was gathering up the letters and attempting to put in on the shelves and the table. "Uh. Mrs. Weasley? What are all these..." He gestured around at the general mess.

She looked up from a pile of letters and smiled slightly. "Fan mail, Harry."

"Fan mail!"

She nodded ruefully, "It seems as if your fans had decided to give you some rest and have only now started to send all the letters to you."

"But how – "

"Did they know you were living with us? That horrible Skeeter woman leaked it to The Daily Prophet."

"Oh. I'll be having a word with Kingsley about her."

"That would be wonderful Harry, now if you could help me..."

Together they gathered all the letters, magically bound them into piles, and stacked them on the floor beside the stairs.

When they were done Mrs. Weasley wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and said, "Now, Harry, don't go throwing all the letters away, some of them might not be just fan mail. Why don't you, Ron, Hermione and Ginny, after breakfast of course, have a look through them?"

Harry nodded. He looked around at the kitchen, it was a mess, bits of paper were still on the floor, there were dishes in need of washing in the sink, and Mrs. Weasley hadn't even started on breakfast. "Mrs. Weasley?"

She was starting with the dishes, "Yes, dear?"

"Would you like me to call Kreacher? There are a lot of people in the house, and he could help with the washing and cleaning. You need rest."

"That's alright dear. I can mana –"

"No. Mrs. Weasley, I'm calling Kreacher." Looking at her expression he added hastily, "You can still cook, Kreacher will just help with the cleaning. Please?"

'Oh, alright. Go on then." She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, "You are too sweet."

Everyone was sitting around the kitchen table. Except for Mr. Weasley and George, they had gone to work (George had decided that he had "enough of a break"). Giving their dishes to Kreacher (who Harry had summoned two hours ago), Harry, Ron and Hermione got up. Ginny would join them after she'd showered. Ron kissed his mother on the cheek.

"We'll be in my room, mum, send Ginny there when she comes out."

Mrs. Weasley smiled faintly and patted him on the cheek. Harry levitated the piles of letters up the stairs and into Ron's room.

Hermione flopped down on Ron's bed and summoned one stack to herself. "We had better get started; there must be at least a couple hundred letters altogether. I don't know _how_ we're going to finish all this..."

Ron looked hopelessly at the piles, "Isn't there a spell...?"

Hermione laughed, "Honestly, Ron, not everything can be done by magic."

Ron looked glum. She sighed, "Come on, Ron. There's nothing else we need to do!"

Ron grimaced, grabbed a letter, opened it and started to read.

"_Dear Harry – "_

But he stopped because Hermione had given a shriek of laughter. Harry raised an eyebrow.

Hermione, between stifled gasps of laughter, read out the letter to Ron and him.

"_Dear Harry. Marry me; I will forever keep you happy. Love, Romilda Vane" _

Ron laughed and rolled around on the floor, "Isn't that the girl that – Blimey, Harry, she'd given you a love potion hadn't she? Merlin. You'd better watch out for her mate." He looked eagerly at Hermione, a boyish grin on his face. "Are there more proposals?"

Harry groaned and dropped his head in his hands, "I'd hoped this might be over..."

Ron looked gleefully at Harry, "Bollocks, Harry, It's just started!"

"What's just started?"

They all looked around, Ginny, her hair still damp, was standing in the doorway, clad in an over-large T-shirt and pyjama pants. Quelling Ron and Hermione's explanations with a scorching look, Harry mumbled, "I'll tell you later."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, "Right. Let's get to work then."

They each grabbed a pile and perused the letters. Most of them were from people Harry had supposedly 'met'; although he didn't remember their names or even what they look like. Harry got quite a few marriage proposals, but there were some for Ron too. There were a few from his Hogwarts friends like Neville, Seamus, Dean and the like; Harry kept those in another pile to answer to.

* * *

Harry and Ginny sat in the garden of the Burrow, on a swing that Ginny said she'd insisted on when she was six. Well, Harry was on the swing and Ginny was on his lap. They swung slowly back and forth. Harry was telling her about Romilda's unceremonious marriage proposal.

"So, Mr. Potter, are you still contemplating it? Will Romilda Vane become Romilda Potter? And more importantly, will I be invited?"

"Yes," said Harry gravely, "You'll be invited, on one condition though,"

She raised her eyebrows. "And what may that condition be?

"That you not make a scene."

"I'm afraid you're out of luck, Potter, I'll be sure to make as much of a scene as humanely possible." And with that she slid off his lap and ran into the Burrow. Chuckling, Harry followed her in.

They got in as the same time as an official-looking Ministry owl. The owl landed on the table and held out its leg. Ginny untied the letter, took one look at the name on the cover, and handed it over to Harry. Harry took it with apprehension; he hoped this wasn't another, more cleverly disguised, marriage proposal from Romilda Vane. Opening it, he saw, to some relief that it wasn't. It was from Kingsley Shacklebolt, about –

"What's it say, Harry?"

Harry looked 'round, the voice belonged to George, who'd just come back from work. Harry shrugged, "They want to give me, Ron, and Hermione each an Order of Merlin, First Class."

"Ah, Dad said that might happen."

Ginny looked surprised, "He did? When? I've been with you ever since..."

George replied, "There are some things only between father and son, little sis... or father and _sons_ I should say."

Ginny merely looked contemptuous.

* * *

Dinner that night was a noisy affair. Mrs. Weasley, to 'celebrate' the Orders of Merlin, had invited nearly everyone. Everyone included: Andromeda, Teddy, Hagrid, Bill and Fluer, the Lovegoods, Neville, and his grandmother.

Mrs. Weasley and Kreacher had worked together to make a scrumptious meal, in which there was everything, including turkey, treacle tart, pudding, French Onion, and a rare steak for Bill.

The moment Luna had set foot in the Burrow she had announced a presence of a Bibblytiff, which was, apparently, a highly sad creature that wailed miserably whenever one tried to talk to it. Hermione had exasperatedly tried explaining, all through dinner, that the wailing was just little Teddy Lupin who did not appreciate being left alone while everyone ate. Nevertheless, Luna insisted on going out into the garden to look for 'that poor creature', dragging Neville along with her. Hagrid, who had looked vaguely interested, joined them a minute later.

Harry picked up Teddy as everybody retired to the living room after dinner (except for Luna, Neville, and Hagrid). Ginny and Hermione immediately sat beside him and started giggling and cooing at Teddy. Harry, who thought that this was extremely uncharacteristic of both girls, said so and in return got two, slightly unnerving, glares ("We'll giggle if we want to, Harry, and you can't stop us!").

Harry looked at Teddy and decided something. Tomorrow, after being awarded his Order of Merlin, he'd go to Gringotts and transfer 1000 galleons to the Lupin account; he'd also collect the key to the Lupin vault that Remus had entrusted him with. Teddy needed to be well-cared for in the future, and why not start it now? He'd talk it over with Ron and his dad and see what they say. Harry put the thought out of his mind for now. Ginny wanted to hold Teddy, so he carefully (so as not to hurt the boy) handed him over to her.

Leaning back Harry asked Charlie how Norberta was doing. Apparently she'd laid some eggs and was getting more vicious by the second. Charlie bore fresh burns on his leg, a result of one of Norberta's angry tirades. Conversationally, Charlie said, "How are things with Ginny then?"

Harry, being caught off-guard, replied "Great. We're... uh... we're great."

Charlie nodded but gave him a suspicious look all the same. Harry supposed that, Boy-Who-Lived or not, one must always look out for their little sister.

Luna, Neville and Hagrid entered the living room. Hagrid looked slightly disappointed. Harry guessed that there hadn't been a Bibblytiff in the garden. Luna immediately joined Hermione and Ginny, Neville made a beeline for Ron, who eagerly set up a chess set.

Leaning back Harry looked around the room, everyone whom he loved and cared about was here. Charlie had joined Bill, Arthur's and Mrs. Longbottom's conversation, Mrs. Weasley and Andromeda were talking in hushed tones, Ron and Neville were playing chess (cheered on by George and Luna) , and Hermione, Ginny, and Fleur were playing with Teddy. Grinning slightly, Harry went to cheer on Neville against Ron.


	8. Merlins and Goblins

Merlins and Goblins

Harry, Ron, and Hermione stood before Mrs. Weasley for inspection. She was desperately trying to calm Harry's flyaway hair; despite Ginny's protests of "But that's what makes Harry _Harry_!" He grinned at Ginny, thinking that she looked quite... _nice_... in her robes of navy blue.

Ron was wearing new robes of a delicate shade of blue; George had bought them for him in honor of "our Ickle-Ronniekins being all growed up". Hermione's hair was sleek, shiny and coiled into a loose bun; she was wearing robes of a light lilac colour that matched prettily with the shoes Mrs. Weasley had lent her.

When Mrs. Weasley was satisfied that they looked their best she motioned for her husband to step into the fireplace; they were all going to floo to the Ministry. Mr. Weasley grabbed a fistful of floo powder, shouted 'the Ministry of Magic' and spun out of sight. The rest of the Weasleys, Harry and Hermione followed.

They walked towards the Atrium of the Ministry, the hallways were deserted (save for a couple witches or wizards); everyone was at the atrium to see the heroes being awarded with the Orders of Merlin, First Class. Harry, Ron and Hermione tried to be inconspicuous; the witches and wizards around them stood whispering or openly staring at them. Harry felt uncomfortable; he'd never liked being the undisputed center of attention.

He thought he saw someone that looked suspiciously like a toad. Harry's anger boiled when he realised it was Umbridge, looking like someone had killed her cat, walking towards the Weasleys, Hermione, and him. The customary smirk on her face, as if she was better than everyone, had been wiped off, probably because her beloved _Fudge _was no longer in office, nor was the next best thing, Scrimgeur. Harry remembered how Kingsley had said that her _department _(The Muggle-Born Registration Commission) had been removed, permanently. Umbridge came to a stand-still in front of him.

"Congratulations, Potter." She said a hint of the old smirk returning. Harry supposed she had to pretend to be happy and in awe of him so that the Minister didn't throw her in Azkaban. Her eyes roved over the Weasley's.

"I hear you defeated the most powerful wizard in history."

"I hear you went around chucking people in Azkaban because they're Muggle-born."

Her smile vanished, she walked up to him and threatened in a whisper, "I'd be careful, Potter, plenty of people would still like to hurt you." Then she pushed past them and strode out of the Ministry.

Harry stood there shaking, no matter what happened he would still hate Umbridge. With a _passion._ A small warm hand closed around his clenched fist, looking down he saw Ginny. Harry's face broke into a smile.

"Ignore her; she's got no power now."

Another hand was on his shoulder, he looked to his left. Mr. Weasley smiled at him. Surrounded by people he loved, and who loved him, Harry continued towards the Atrium.

* * *

Ron was pacing in the sidelines; Harry was out there, in front of hundreds of people, accepting his Order. Ron was next. And he was nervous. He'd never done anything like this before.

"Calm down, Ron. Everything will be fine, I don't think they're expecting a speech, just take it, say thank you and go off to the other side of the podium."

"Think! You don't _think?_ So they _might_ be expecting a speech? You never – no one – you didn't say!" he sputtered. He couldn't do this. He'll faint, or worse, trip and then everyone would wonder if he really had a hand in destroying the most evil wizard known to wizard-kind.

"Ronald –"

"No. Don't. Don't _Ronald_ me... I'll die out there."

"Ron, come here."

Reluctantly, he obeyed, going over to where she sat. She pulled him down and crashed her lips on his. His head swimming, he wrapped his arms around her thin waist, pulling her forward and half onto his lap. Just as they were getting to the good part (her tongue had wriggled its way into his mouth), Ginny's voice rang out.

"You two, get a _grip_! Ron, you have to be out in a minute!"

Ron waved his hand vaguely in the direction of her voice, lips still firmly on Hermione's. He felt someone yank his robes, and he hastily let go of Hermione. Seriously annoyed, he yelled, "_What_!"

"It's your turn, you git. Go out there!"

Hermione (blushing slightly) gave him an encouraging smile and reached up to wipe lip-gloss of his face. Steeling himself, Ron took one last, calming look at Hermione and walked out into the stage.

* * *

Harry and Ginny walked towards the wizarding bank, hand-in-hand. The rest of the Weasleys and Hermione were cosily seated in the Three Broomsticks. Harry had decided that now was the best time to do his Gringotts business. Ginny had volunteered to go with him and so, here they were.

The goblins checked them over with the Secrecy Sensors and the Probity Probe. Stepping into the lavishly decorated hall, Harry and Ginny were directed to a goblin near the very end of the corridor. Harry laughed inwardly, remembering the last time he'd been here (remembering the _purpose_ of that visit sobered him up, just a bit). Ginny looked around at the chandeliers and the exquisitely carved wooden desks. Harry frowned, had she never been here before?

As if she knew what he was thinking she said, "I've been here, but that was a long time ago... after my third year mum would hardly let me go out."

Harry's response was cut off.

"How may I help you today?"

A gravelly, unstable voice had asked the question. Harry handed the goblin Remus's will, in which it stated that the key to the Lupin vault would stay with Harry until Teddy came of age. The goblin studied it for a moment then said, "Identification?" Harry handed his wand over; he supposed that they had to make sure he really _was_ Harry Potter. The goblin looked at it, turning it over in his hands, and then handed it back to him. Then the goblin said to another goblin standing behind him, "The key to vault 529. Change the records: Harry Potter, keeper of the key of vault 529 until Teddy Lupin comes of age." The goblin handed the key to Harry, their hands touched, the goblin's skin felt clammy and cold.

"I want to transfer 1000 galleons to vault 529."

The goblin raised a thin eyebrow, "It will be done and you will be notified."

Anxious to get away, Harry nodded and strode out briskly into the bright sunlight of the street, Ginny's small hand grasped tightly in his own. Ginny murmured, "Creepy, can't they at least smile?"

"Well, if you were a hundred and forty years old, would you laugh?"

Ginny laughed, "I guess not."

Something shiny caught his eye. He looked around. There. On window display of a little jewellery shop was an amethyst coloured locket. Harry grinned; he'd come and get it for Ginny later, and surprise her with it.

They joined the Weasleys and Hermione at the Three Broomsticks. After a couple more drinks (Ron and George were becoming too rowdy) they apparated to the Burrow.

As soon as they got to the Burrow, Ginny hastily told her family that she had things to do and with a _come-hither_ look at Harry, ran upstairs to her room. After a couple minutes Harry too made excuses and went up the stairs, he knocked on Ginny's door. She opened it; she'd changed out of her robes and into jeans and a Holyhead Harpies T-shirt. Harry closed the door behind him, locked it magically, and swept up Ginny in his arms. She laughed and lowered her face, closing the gap that was between them.

* * *


	9. Will Power

Will Power

The next few days at the Burrow were peaceful. The occupants lazed about the house, even Mrs. Weasley had less to do, thanks to Kreacher. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny mostly played two-a-side Quidditch, occasionally dragging George into the game. It was on one such day, while they were playing in the yard of the house, that a Ministry owl flew in through the kitchen window and landed on top of Errol's perch. It held out its leg, looking pointedly at Mrs. Weasley.

She untied the letter; she could tell from the writing that it was from Kingsley.

_Dear Molly, _

_Sorry it took so much time to get this to you. The Ministry is going through all the wills in alphabetical order, and so many have died in the Final Battle. Besides that, there is a lot of revamping to do here, as I'm sure Arthur has told you._

_I'm deeply sorry for the loss of one, Fred Weasley; I can only imagine how it would have been if Fred… had not died. I remember when the twins offered me a Canary Cream at an Order meeting (I had the foresight to decline). It seemed astonishing how they could cheer up everyone even in the darkest of times. I hope George is doing well. If you need anything, all you have to do is ask. Send everyone my regards._

_Your servant,_

_Kingsley Shacklebolt. _

She wiped a tear from her eyes. Yes, it was astonishing how the twins had that remarkable ability to make everyone laugh for no apparent reason. She knew George was putting up a brave front, for the sake of everyone else; she saw how he played with his food. The only time he was truly happy seemed to be when he was in his shop. Molly supposed that he felt the closest to Fred there. She sighed. There was nothing worse than losing your own child; the fact that this is the way he'd like to have gone, laughing and fighting Voldemort, didn't make it any easier. She sighed and went out into the garden to call the kids inside. George needed to see this.

* * *

After the arrival of Fred's will, his death seemed to hang over the Burrow like an ominous storm cloud, threatening to burst at any given moment. Indeed, Mrs. Weasley would suddenly burst into tears while cooking or doing the laundry. George (who had received most of Fred's gold and possession; however, Fred had managed to leave something of meaning to everyone. Even Percy.) was spending increasing amounts of time alone. Harry thought it sickening that, even at such a young age, Fred had prepared for the consequences of fighting against Voldemort. Harry miserably watched Mrs. Weasley re-read Fred's will. Unable to stand it anymore he walked out the back door to the garden.

Ron followed him out and they both silently walked to a large crab-apple tree and sat down under it. After a while he said quietly, "It's not your fault, mate, I know you think it is, but Fred knew what he was getting into, didn't he? And so did everyone else."

Harry looked at Ron. He had matured a lot over the last year; taken the leadership role when Harry had been obsessed with the Deathly Hallows. Harry supposed that Hermione had rubbed off on him. They looked up as a shadow fell across them. Hermione had followed them out. As the three of them fell into a collective silence, Harry realised something. He had never thanked Ron and Hermione properly for all they did; for sticking with him through the years even as their adventures got slowly more dangerous and led them down steadily Darkening roads. They could've turned back if they wanted to; Harry had told them countless times that they didn't have to come with him. But they came, no matter what the mission, no matter what they had to do, they came. Harry turned to Ron and Hermione.

"You guys, I – I never thanked you for … for sticking with me. You two were always there and… well. You guys gave me the one thing I always wanted, friends and a family. I –" He was cut off by Hermione as she hugged him fiercely around the neck. Harry hugged her back, just as fiercely, not knowing where the sudden urge to cry came from. When they broke apart, Ron grinned and held out his hand, Harry grasped it, and Hermione burst into tears. They looked at her in surprise; she wiped her eyes with her sleeve and flapped her hands impatiently at them.

"You guys… you're so…" Apparently words failed her because she ran into the house sobbing.

"Mental, that one." Ron muttered as they stood and watched her sobbing into Ginny's shoulder under the back doorway.

"You two make a fine match."

"Oi!"

Harry laughed and grabbed a nearby broomstick and flew into the air, Ron followed and they started playing Quidditch with a rotten crab-apple.

* * *

Harry walked through the streets of Diagon Alley, trying to be unnoticeable. Nevertheless, the people around them pointed and whispered and occasionally came up and congratulated him.

He had just dropped off George and Ron at the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes, and was now walking towards the little jewellery shop (Twinkling Trinkets) that Harry had seen the locket in. He wanted to buy that amethyst locket for Ginny; plus he needed a new broomstick.

When he reached the store he tried to push the door open but it yelled, "Pull me! Pull me!"

Laughing, Harry _pulled _the door open and went inside.

As soon as she recognized him, the little witch behind the counter gasped and dropped the magazine she was reading. "Mr. Potter! H-how may I help you?"

Harry looked around nervously; the locket hadn't been in the window when he came in, "Uh. Actually, a couple days ago there was a locket, in the window, a light purple colour... silver chain. Is it still here?"

"Yes! It is!" flustered, she explained, "We change our window displays every two days." She opened the counter and pulled out a box, she tapped it with her wand and it opened to reveal the locket on a white silk cloth. "Is this the one, sir?"

It was very weird to be called 'sir'. "Yes!" Harry was immensely relieved; he'd thought it might've been sold to someone else. "How much is it?"

"220 galleons."

Harry took out his money bag; he'd bought about 1000 galleons, not knowing how valuable the gem would be, and how much a new broom would cost. He took out 220 galleons and deposited them in the witch's hand. She counted them and dropped them in the cash box.

"Would you like it packaged, sir?"

"Uh, no. Just the box will be fine."

She nodded and gave the box containing the locket to him. He put it in his pocket, "Does it have any magical properties?" Harry had had enough experiences with magical objects to know to ask this question.

"No, sir, just an anti-thief and a glamour charm on it."

"Glamour charm?"

"To stop the gem from losing its shine and smoothness, sir."

"Oh. Thanks. Have a nice day."

"You too, Mr. Potter."

He could feel her eyes follow him as he walked out.

* * *

Harry met Ron at the Quidditch supplies shop. And together they picked out the new Firebolt model. After, they dropped in on George and bought some Dark Mark candy (these were extremely popular now, in light of recent events). They also stopped at a sweet shop and bought two bags full of chocolates and sweets; Mrs. Weasley wouldn't have to make dessert for a while.

Laughing and chewing on their Edible Dark Marks, they apparated back to the Burrow where Mrs. Weasley yelled at them for spoiling their appetite just before dinner.

That night Harry fell, exhausted from the days events into his bed in Ron's room. He punched his pillow into a more comfortable shape and, imagining Ginny's reaction to his present, fell asleep.


	10. 12 FailSafe Ways to Charm Witches 1

Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches

Part. 1: Gift Giving

Harry woke up the next day to the slightly unsettling sight of Ron reading. Once he got a good look at the book that Ron was reading, however, he let out a great shout of laughter.

"Which chapter is it mate?"

Ron smirked, "The, uh, more _physical _kind."

Harry grinned and pulled out his own copy from under his bed. It was around 7 in the morning; he figured he could read at least two chapters before they had to go down for breakfast.

* * *

Ginny cautiously opened the door to Ron's room. She did _not _want to catch Ron in whatever state of undress he slept in. She wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for Hermione; apparently it was a sin to sleep past 10 o' clock on a summer holiday. After Hermione had whined for an hour straight, Ginny had unhappily come up here to wake the boys so that Hermione can snog Ron some more; just the thought made her shiver. What Hermione saw in Ron was utterly out of Ginny's comprehension, even though she'd known that this would happen sooner or later.

Ginny looked around the room. Both boys were sleeping; Ron's blankets were, thankfully, drawn up to his chest. Just then she noticed something and had to stop herself from laughing with shock. Harry was loosely holding a book, and so was Ron... Harry's book was in danger of slipping out of his grip. So Ginny tiptoed over and gently slid the book out of Harry's fingers. She looked at the title, after all, if they were reading this book in the summer holidays it _must _be interesting.

"Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to –" Ginny laughed quietly, Harry should know better than this. Or maybe, in their months together, Ron had rubbed off on Harry a bit too much.

"Oi! What are you doing here?" Ron had woken up. Ginny was relieved to see that he was wearing his pyjamas.

"Good morning, dear brother. Hermione wants to snog you, better go downstairs."

Ron's ears turned red, "We nev –"

"Honestly Ron, she's my best friend, she's told me what you guys do."

Ron blinked, and then turned a nasty shade of maroon, "Fine. You better come down too, I won't have my sister –" He stopped when he saw the look on her face. Then he walked, in what he thought was a dignified silence, out of the room.

Laughing Ginny settled down into what was sure to be a very... _enlightening... _read.

* * *

Someone was giggling softly beside him. Groaning Harry turned and blinked up at the person. The picture was still blurry, he felt around for his glasses and put them on. Blinking to clear the sudden burst of light in his eyes, he sat up; and immediately jerked his blankets up to his chest.

"Ginny?"

"Interesting book you've got here, Potter."

_Shit. Better do some damage control._ "Uh... yea. Um. Ron gave that to me... as a joke. I wasn't reading it..." _Smooth, Potter. She'll definitely buy that... _

"Don't lie." She said cheerfully, "It was about to slip out of your grip when I caught it."

"Uh..." He mumbled something about falling asleep.

Ginny grinned and started reading out loud,

"Chapter One: Save her from the most evil wizard of time and his pet snake."

"Ginny –"

"Let me finish, Harry. I'm summarizing it for you, can't have you reading all day and becoming a Hermione now, can we?"

Harry sighed; he wished the earth would open up and swallow him whole. Nothing can be more embarrassing than when Ginny decides to tease. He'd learned that in his sixth year.

"Anyways. Chapter Two: Proceed to ignore her for the next three years. Chapter Three: Snog her senseless in front of fifty other people; make sure her ridiculously over-protective brother is there too. Chapter Four: Ditch her at a funeral; give some noble excuse. Chapter Five: Refuse any contact with her for the better part of the following year while on the run to defeat afore-mentioned evil wizard. Chapter Seven: Return and sweep her off her feet."

Harry smirked, "Swept you off your feet have I?"

Ginny sighed dramatically, "All this flattery can't be good for your ego. I'm going to have to start calling you Humongous Bighead like Fred and Geo –" She stopped suddenly and blinked 3 times in rapid succession; Harry supposed, to stop the oncoming flow of tears. After a brief silence in which Harry wished he could say something to comfort her, she whispered, "You'd better come down for breakfast. Mum's made bacon and –"

In an attempt to stop her, Harry said, "Ginny."

She plowed on, ignoring him. "–Eggs and hash browns–"

Harry took her by her arms and pulled her against his chest, she gasped and attempted to pull away, but he held firm. Finally she stopped struggling and relaxed into his hold, resting her head against his shoulder.

They sat like that for a moment before she said, "Sometimes I miss him so bad, it hurts. And George, I just wish... I wish he'd smile more, tease Ron a bit... pull some pranks... it's like he's lost all reason for living. After almost 16 years of having to live with th-them it... I don't know... I just –"

She shook her head, her glorious hair falling all over his chest, and fell silent. Harry didn't say anything for a moment; she had to get this out. After it became apparent that she had nothing else to say, however, he decided he'd give her the locket now; if only to cheer her up. He removed his arms from around her waist and said, "Ginny, I have something for you."

"What?"

"Hold on, let me get it." He got up from the bed and looked around for the robes he'd worn yesterday, he found them lying under his new broom on a chair. He experienced a brief wave of panic when he didn't find the little box in his robes' pocket but quickly remembered that he'd put the box in his trunk. He went over to his trunk and turfed half the contents on the floor. He found the box among the stuff on the floor and went back to the bed. Ginny looked up at him curiously.

He opened the box and showed its contents to her. She looked at the box then up at Harry and then at the box again. Then she said; her voice small, "Who's it for?"

He stared at her in disbelief; who did she think it was for? "It's for you." He watched her face anxiously for her reaction. Her eyes were darker than normal, and the locket was reflected back in them.

Her expression stony, she said, "I can't take it."

"What? Of course you can, I got it for you."

"Harry, all the things I own put together won't amount to what this cost. You've got to return it."

"But -"

"No, Harry. How do you think I'll look? Second-hand clothes and a 1000 galleon necklace."

"It didn't cost that much! And I'm not asking you to wear it all the time, just... for special -"

"But why? Why'd you buy it? I didn't ask you for anything, I was fine with -" She gestured wildly around the room.

"Gin, I never got to take you out anywhere, not even Hogsmeade. But I'm done with Hogwarts now and we can actually go places an-"

"And you want the great Harry Potter's girlfriend to look like she came out of Witch Weekly? Honestly, Harry, I thought you were better than that. 'Guess I was wrong."

And with that she stormed out of the room, leaving an incredulous Harry on the bed, still holding the box.


	11. 12 FailSafe Ways to Charm Witches 2

Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches

Part. 2: _For_giving

Torrential rain was pouring down on the desolate country lane. The wind was blowing heavily in all directions. Overall it was strange weather in the middle of summer; but the residents of England were used to this.

Near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole a seven story house towered over a garden with an odd collection of plants. The house swayed this way and that in the wind. The rooms of the house were all stacked on top of each other and looked to be in danger of falling. But the occupants of the Burrow were safe; a little wind wouldn't do the house any damage.

A girl with vibrant red hair was in the garden. Wearing an old T-shirt, pants, and her big brother's Wellingtons she was jumping from one puddle to another. A black-haired boy with round glasses was watching amusedly from the back door.

* * *

Ginny giggled as a big glob of mud landed on the legs of her pants. She was dripping wet with rain; there was mud in her hair; her T-shirt, though overlarge at first, clung to her body because of the excessive amounts of water it now held. She felt great though; she hadn't been able to go puddle-jumping ever since she'd started Hogwarts. Fred and George used to go puddle-jumping with her; a giggle rose and died in her throat. She missed him. He'd always cheered her up (with the help of George of course). She could feel the tears starting to come. She sighed and tilted her face up; the rain pelted her face and she stuck her tongue out, feeling like she was ten again. They had all been forced to grow up too fast.

She looked at the grey clouds, they looked almost purplish. Ginny loved the rain. It had been raining all day today so she had snuck out. Dad, George, and Percy were all at work and Mum was taking a bit of an afternoon nap. Ron and Hermione were in Ron's room. She supposed Harry was with them too.

She frowned as she thought of him. He had gotten her a necklace; as if she wanted those things! All she wanted was some time with him before she had to go to Hogwarts and he went off to live by himself. But Ginny knew she'd been unfair about what she'd said. She knew Harry didn't care about things like how he looked to the public. She also knew that Harry genuinely liked her. Maybe even – no. Couldn't be; she was sure she loved him, but Harry had never said anything along those lines.

* * *

He had been watching her for the past hour. She'd come outside wearing Ron's Wellington boots and Harry had gotten a glimpse of her from Ron's window. He had made his excuses to Ron and Hermione, although he suspected that the latter knew exactly where he wanted to go. Ron was only too happy to have Hermione alone to himself; Harry shook his head in disgust, Ron was obsessed.

He tiptoed down the stairs, jumping to avoid the creaking stairs; he didn't want to disturb Mrs. Weasley who was sleeping. He silently pulled open the door to the back garden; what he saw froze him with shock. Ginny was jumping from puddle to puddle with a look of childish glee on her face. Now she stopped jumping. She was standing almost knee-deep in a puddle; she tilted up her face and let the rain hit her. She stood like that for at least five minutes. He grinned; she looked so beautiful; her wet hair was plastered against her neck, the T-shirt she wore was clinging to her body, enhancing her every curve. Harry wondered how she can look so stunning when she was splattered with mud and slick with rain. He shook his head to clear the seductive images that were forcing themselves into his brain. He won't give in; she'd be the one to apologize first. He'd done nothing wrong. It'd been one day since they'd last said anything to each other, but Harry knew she'd come around. He watched as she looked down at her feet and then suddenly, she collapsed.

Abandoning pretence, he rushed towards her. His mind was zooming into overdrive; was she hurt? When he reached her he knelt down beside her (mud and rain bedamned, she was too important) and saw that there was a small, peaceful, smile on her face. Hoping she wasn't unconscious he whispered fearfully, "Ginny?"

Her eyes flew open. She looked horrified at him for a second and then smiled vaguely. She reached up and wrapped a muddy hand around his neck and, before he could do anything, brought his lips forcefully down to meet hers. After a minute he pulled away jerkily.

"Bloody hell, Ginny, you gave me a heart attack. You're coming inside, _now_."

"You can't tell me what to do, Potter." She was still lying in the mud. Harry thought that maybe she'd gone mad; certainly it seemed that Luna had had some influence on her.

"I bloody well can." He grasped Ginny by the arms and pulled her up; she was shivering, he wrapped his arms around her. "What is _wrong_ with you, woman? You'll probably catch a cold now."

She sniffed and clung closer to him, "If you tell mum –"

"What? And get yelled at for not stopping you sooner?"

"Sooner? Yo – You mean, you were _watching_ –?"

Harry smirked, "'Course I was, then again if I'd known how demented you were –"

Ginny pushed him away and started walking unsteadily towards the house; Harry caught her just as she was about to fall. He guided her into the house and sat her down in the kitchen table. Her cheeks were red and her freckles seemed to be lost in them. Harry pointed his wand at her and siphoned off the mud, and then he dried her clothes. He put one last spell on her, this one (like many others) he'd learned from Hermione when they were on their quest. It wouldn't last long and she'd still have a cold, but it would temporarily warm her up. He put the same spells on himself and cleaned the mud off the immaculate kitchen floor. Mrs. Weasley and Kreacher spent hours cleaning and cooking and he didn't want to add to their grief.

Ginny hadn't made a sound while Harry had cleaned her up. Now she said, "Harry?"

Harry was looking in the cupboards for some tea. He replied absentmindedly, "What?"

"I'm sorry."

Harry abandoned his search for tea and looked at her. "You should be."

She ignored this and continued, "I know you meant well, and I really like the locket. It – It's very pretty." She took a deep breath and locked her eyes with his, "I shouldn't have said that stuff about Witch Weekly..." she trailed off.

Harry sighed inwardly. He knew (and she knew) that this row they had was just... a row. It didn't mean anything, it didn't change anything. And Harry had always known she'd come around eventually.

"Merlin, Harry, are you going to say something or do I have to hex you?"

He winced as he thought of Ginny's infamous Bat Bogey Hex, he said hastily, "Er. No. I mean: it's ok." By the look on Ginny's face (something akin to murderous) he added, "You're not mad then?"

She shook her head, "Of course not, I was just... emotional that day..." She looked ruefully at him, "Sorry."

Harry nodded then asked, "You'll take it then?"

"Of course I will! It's too pretty to pass up."

Harry leaned over and kissed her. She pulled away; Harry looked at her, confused. She got up from her seat and planted herself firmly on his lap. Harry started to speak but she put a finger to his lips and said (her eyes twinkling with mischief), "Shut up and snog me." Against his better judgment, he complied.

And it was in this state and position that Mrs. Weasley found them half an hour later.

* * *

Mrs. Weasley stared at the scene in front of her in shock. Her daughter, her only daughter, was lip locked with a boy; Harry Potter no less! They were entwined closely on a chair (_one _chair!). She could see that Ginny was trying desperately to open the buttons on Harry's shirt; she was pleased to see that Harry had the decency to try to stop Ginny from doing so. Her blood boiled. They should have the common sense to _at least_ do this in private. _Not_ in the kitchen where anyone could come upon them. She cleared her throat. _Loudly._

Harry and Ginny sprang apart looking around. She looked expectantly at them for an explanation. Harry was redder than she'd ever seen him. And Ginny, she inwardly laughed, Ginny looked like a tomato. Giving them her best threatening look she said, "Explain."

"Mum, we were just. Um. We just started really..." Ginny trailed off and looked down at her feet. Molly could tell that she was terrified.

"Er. Mrs. Weasley, I – It's not what it –" Harry stuttered. He was mortified, he felt as though he'd betrayed Mrs. Weasley's trust.

"Harry dear it's exactly what it looks like." She was trying her very best not to yell at the both of them; after all, she was sixteen once too. "Although I'm not going to... _do_ anything. I just want to ask that from now on... you do these things _privately. _Not in one's kitchen for example." She noticed that Ginny was trying to look inconspicuous. She wasn't going to let Ginny off the hook that easily. Tonight, after everyone was in bed, they would have a serious _talk_.

Harry looked shamefacedly at her and nodded. Ginny was still trying to blend in the background.

"Now, you two go up and get Ron and Hermione. Arthur, George and Percy should be back anytime now. Dinner will be ready in a bit."

* * *

All through dinner Ginny was jittery. She knew, she just knew, that mum was going to come to her room tonight and have a 'talk' with her. Ginny had managed to avoid the 'talks' these last two/three years. But there would be no mercy tonight. So it was with a heavy heart that she bade goodbye to her family, Hermione and Harry and slipped upstairs to her room.

Once in her room she changed into her nightclothes and quickly turned the lights off. Maybe if mum thought she was asleep she could go just one more day without having to have a lecture. Although, in the end, Molly Weasley would always get her way. Fifteen minutes after she'd decided to feign sleep, the door to her room flew open and the lights turned on. And Ginny knew she was doomed. _Merlin smite me now, before mum actually brings up the dreaded topic._

It wasn't like Ginny didn't know all about... _things_. She had brothers! And boyfriends! She lay stock-still, hoping her mum would go away.

"Ginny, I know you're awake."

_Well. That's that plan botched then. _She sighed and sat up. "Mum, can we do this later? I'm really tired – "

"Oh, I know you're tired dear, but this can't wait. After today's _activities _... we need to do this _now._" She sat at the edge of the bed.

Ginny sighed, "Fine. But mum I figured that stuff out a long time ago. You've got nothing new to tell me."

Her mum smirked, "You'll figure out the rest on your own dear, I'm not here to give you _tips. _I doubt you need them, a strong beautiful girl like you." Her gaze softened and she said gently, "Ginny, honey, there's more to it than just the act. You've got to be absolutely sure you're ready –"

"I'll be of age in a couple months!"

She _tsk_ed kindly at her, "It's got nothing to with age, love. Some girls don't feel they're ready till they're... 40. And that's ok. No one can force you into it."

Ginny softened and whispered, "I know, mum. Harry would never –"

Mrs. Weasley nodded knowingly, "I know dear, he's a good boy, but things can get out of hand. I was sixteen once too you know. All I ask is that you proceed with caution. Make absolutely sure you want to go through with it, and deal with the consequences. I suppose you know the Contraceptive Charm?"

Ginny blushed, "Yes."

"Good. And I take it you've nev –"

Appalled that she would even think such a thing, Ginny said, "Mum! No! I haven't..."

"Good. That's all I wanted to say, really." She leaned in and gave Ginny a big hug, kissing the top of her forehead. Then she pulled back and said sharply, "Do you have a temperature?"

_Damn._ "No, mum. I don -"

"Don't lie to me, young lady. You've been puddle-jumping today haven't you?" Mrs. Weasley looked sternly at her.

Ginny faltered under her gaze, "Um... Yes."

"Why? Didn't I tell you never to do it again?"

"But mum! I haven't been since I started Hogwarts!" Ginny added softly, "It reminds me of Fred."

Mrs. Weasley's gaze softened, "Fine. But bed-rest all day tomorrow."

"But mum! It's supposed to be sunny tomorrow! Quidditch!"

"Should've thought of that before. Now go to sleep, I'll send Hermione up."

Ginny watched her walk to the door. She loved her mum (even if she made her stay in bed all day tomorrow), she could've made this thing with Harry a big deal, drag dad and her brothers into it, but she didn't.

"Mum?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Thanks."

Mrs. Weasley smiled and softly closed the door. As she walked up to her bedroom she wiped tears from her eyes. All her children. They were all grown up.

* * *


	12. Happy Birthday, Harry!

Happy Birthday, Harry!

July seemed to pass swiftly that year. And all of a sudden Harry found himself having to face the prospect of turning eighteen. Him and Ron had talked about it and decided that they would live together in a flat. Harry had enough to buy a small two-bedroom flat. They'd already looked at some but they were all somewhat dingy and not up to Mrs. Weasley's motherly standards. And Mr. Weasley had insisted that he stay with them until school started on September first. So, Harry and Ron had about 2 months before they were 'allowed' to move out of the Burrow. Harry didn't have a problem with this because it meant more time with Ginny, Ron, and Hermione.

Harry felt a bit envious of Ron; he knew exactly what he wanted to do. George had approached him with an offer to work at the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes until he finished his Auror training and Ron had gladly accepted. Harry knew he'd have to get a job while training to be an Auror but he didn't know what. Ron had pointed out (gleefully) that anyone would be happy to employ him (Boy-Who-Conquered and whatnot). Harry, however, didn't want to use that as a crutch.

There was another thing; Auror training. McGonagall and Kingsley had decided that the people in Harry's year who had not received proper magical training in the last year could either come back for another year at Hogwarts, or just take their N.E.W.TS at the end of this school year. Harry, Ron, and (a disgruntled) Hermione had decided that they would take their NEWTS at the end of the year. Ron felt that he knew enough to get by, Harry wanted to relax (even though another year at Hogwarts meant more time with Ginny), and Hermione (with great coaxing on Ron and Harry's part) had agreed too. Hermione's agreement, however, had come with 'great' sacrifice on Harry and Ron's part. She adamantly insisted that they buy all the books required for NEWTS and study them everyday. Ron and Harry had compromised and said that they would have a study session twice a week until their exams. Some other people (mainly Luna, Neville, Dean, Seamus, the Patil twins, and Lavender) had heard about this and had agreed that they would all meet twice a week for the session. Hermione didn't seem happy about this. Whether it was because she wanted to have a 'proper' school year or because Lavender would be coming, she never said.

By the end of July Harry and Ron had found an apartment (with a little help from Tom, the barman at the Leaky Cauldron). It was small and had two bedrooms. But it looked spacious due to the balcony and ceiling to floor windows. Ron and Harry's furniture consisted of two poster-beds, an old dining table, a second-hand couch, a coffee table, two wardrobes and two desks. Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, and Ginny together helped them find knick-knacks for their flat: a radio, a couple of rugs, a dinner set, pots and pans, candles, and lamps. All for a discount! Once the shop-keepers heard who the items where for, they were all too happy to cut some Galleons and Knuts off the price. Harry and Ron would move into their flat a week after Ginny went off to Hogwarts.

Harry sat at the kitchen table and looked around. Hermione was talking with Mr. Weasley enthusiastically about a television and its inner workings, Ron was inhaling his bacon and eggs, Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were having a hushed conversation over their breakfast.

It was his birthday. He was eighteen. Looking back Harry couldn't believe it had only been eight years since he'd met Ron. It seemed so much longer. And could they really have gone through all that they did in just eight short years? It was a miracle they were all alive.

"Harry, will you come with me for a bit?" Ginny had got up from her chair and deposited her plate at the sink. She was now beckoning to Harry to follow her up the stairs. He could feel all eyes on him but didn't meet them. He got up from his seat and followed Ginny up, trying his hardest not to look below her waist. He sighed, the pants she wore sometimes...

Once they got to her room, Ginny closed the door after him. Before Harry could say anything she had him pressed against a wall, her lips on his. He wasn't complaining though. Her arms were flat on his chest, and now her lips were working their way down his neck. Unable to control himself he flipped them over so _she_ was against the wall. He kissed her hard then kissed his way down to her collarbone; he sucked on it hard and fast. He backed up and felt his way around to the bed. He gently guided her down to it, his lips still on hers. Ginny moaned as his hands slipped under her shirt. In response her hands lifted his t-shirt and threw it on the ground. Harry took this time to put a locking and silencing charm on the door and walls of the room. His mind blanked out once he felt Ginny's small hands working their charm on his chest.

* * *

Twenty minutes later Harry pulled back from Ginny; the need for oxygen had become overwhelming. She whimpered in protest; he chuckled, kissed her swollen lips, and fell back on her bed. She smoothed her t-shirt down and scooted closer to him; he put his arms around her and grinned.

"Your birthday present gets better every year."

She laughed and kissed his neck, the highest point she could reach without moving. "Yea. Who knows, by the time you're 26 we might even go all the way!"

Harry stopped mid-laugh and sobered up at once. He'd wait until she was ready, but not _that _long! She seemed to know what Harry was thinking by the expression on his face.

She laughed and said, "I was joking..."

He said mock-seriously, "I don't find your sense of humor funny."

"Oh shut up. I've got your real present. Here, let me go get it."

He let go of her waist and she went over to her desk. She pulled what looked like a book out of her drawer. She sat on the bed beside Harry and held it out to him.

"I hate to tell you, but I'm not one for reading."

"It's not a _book_ book. Open it!" She said eagerly.

He opened it with apprehension. What he saw blew his mind out. On the first page was a picture of him, Ron, and Hermione, in their third year; they were all waving at the camera. He looked up, wonderment in his eyes. "Ginny –"

She shook her head and said, "No, no. Look through the rest!"

He flipped through the pages; there were more pictures of him, Ron and Hermione. The pictures seemed to be in a timeline because they looked older and older as it wore on. Harry's heart jolted; there was a picture of Sirius and Lupin, it looked to be taken around his fifth year. There was a group picture of the Order; Snape wasn't in it... He turned a couple more pages and found a picture of him and Ginny, under a tree beside the lake. He grinned, picture-Ginny and picture-Harry were laughing and giggling at the camera. He turned one more page and saw a picture of Teddy; his hair was platinum blonde and he was looking at the camera with wide light brown eyes. Under it was a picture of Remus and Tonks; Tonks was wearing a simple floor-length white dress and Remus was in a somewhat shabby tuxedo.

He looked at Ginny; she was watching him with a small smile on her face. "Do you like it?"

"Well, yeah! How'd you – where – who gave you these pictures?"

Her smile got bigger, "I asked everyone. Hagrid, Ron, Hermione, mum and dad had some, Andromeda..." Her voice grew quiet. "Colin gave me some last year..."

He put the book aside and drew her in his arms. She kissed him and said anxiously, "The book is second-hand, but –"

He silenced her with a kiss, "I have no idea how I ended up with you."

She smiled cheekily and said, "Well, it all started when Gryffindor won the cup. You see, little Harrykins decided he had no sense of privacy and–"

Harry groaned, "Funny. I think we should head down now. Ron's going to go into cardiac arrest if we stay here any longer."

Ginny snorted, "Yea. Any guesses as to how many heart attacks he's had by now?"

Chuckling, Harry followed her down the stairs.

* * *

They spent the rest of the day playing two-a-side Quidditch. Later that day when George and Bill came over for Harry's birthday dinner they played a game that left Harry sweating and sore all over; he'd never been on the receiving end of one of George's bludger hits.

Harry dragged himself upstairs and into the shower. He finally understood why girls spent so much time in the shower. The feel of the hot water cascading over his neck, shoulders, and back felt amazing.

Someone knocked on the door, "Harry, dear everyone's here. It's almost time for dinner."

"Almost done, Mrs. Weasley." He shouted back.

Harry got out and wrapped a towel around his waist and realised, with a sinking feeling in his stomach, that he hadn't brought clothes to wear. He looked down at the towel, then at the door. He sighed. He supposed that everyone was in the garden... If he ran he could make it to Ron's room. But then again, how does one run in a towel? He steeled himself and pulled the door open a crack. After making sure that no one was coming, he ran out and started to speed-walk towards Ron's room.

"Sexy."

He spun around. Ginny was leaning on the banister of the stairs. He blushed red.

She grinned, walked up to him, and put a hand oh his chest, tracing the droplets of water over his pecs. She said, her voice a low purr, "Do you do this often? I might have to start living with you then. I mean, it's not everyday that _the _Harry Potter comes out of the bathroom with just a towel on, dripping wet." She started to wrap her hands around his neck but Harry pulled them off.

"Everyone's waiting, Gin, I've got to put on some clothes."

She sighed theatrically, "Fine. Ruin my fun." She winked at him, licking her lips, and walked down the stairs. Harry tried very hard not to look at her bum.

* * *

Harry entered the garden where everyone was sitting around the magically elongated table.

"Sorry I'm late."

Everyone dismissed this, but George said, "Mate, if it was me that got hit by one of my bludgers, I'd cry for an hour in the washroom too."

Harry grinned and said, "Need I remind you who won the game?"

George laughed, "Watch out, Potter, or next time it'll be in your pants."

Wincing at the thought, Harry sat down beside Mrs. Weasley. He looked at the table; it was laden with food, everything from treacle tart, to roast beef, to garlic soup. There was also a large delicious-looking cake in the middle.

He turned to Mrs. Weasley, "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. It must've been very hard –"

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. "Just eat, dear, I know how hungry you boys get. That'll be all the thanks I need."

Looking at all the mouth-watering food at the table, Harry had to agree. He followed Ron's example and started inhaling everything in sight.

* * *


	13. Urgent Matters

Urgent Matters

Urgent Matters

Hermione climbed the stairs to Ron's room in a huff; she had something urgent to discuss. It didn't matter that it was only eight in the morning. She had to get this out of her head or she would explode. She'd talked the matter over with Ginny who agreed whole-heartedly with her. All Hermione had to do now was tell Ron and Harry. She hoped with every fibre of her being that the boys were feeling agreeable today.

She knocked on the door lightly. She didn't want to wake up George who had taken to staying at the Burrow on weekends; his room was opposite to Ron's. She heard muffled voices from the inside of Ron's bedroom. She knocked again.

"Hold on, we're coming!" Ron's voice, thick with sleep, greeted her. She waited, tapping her foot impatiently to the beat of a song that was caught in her head. Growing impatient, after waiting for what seemed like an eternity, she opened the door to find Ron and Harry foraging in their respective trunks. They were both shirtless. Hermione blushed and knocked on the frame of the door to announce her presence.

Ron rounded angrily on her, "Will you _wait _–s" He stopped abruptly when he saw it was her and colored. "Er, sorry. Thought you were someone else..."

"Who were you expecting?" Hermione was genuinely curious.

"No one." Seeing the skeptical look on her face he added, "Really, 'Mione. We weren't –"

She shook her head edgily; she wanted to talk them _now_. "Never mind that, I need to talk to you."

"Oh. Uh. I'll just go, then." Harry had (thankfully) found a shirt. He made to walk towards the door, Hermione stepped in his way.

"Don't be silly. I want to talk to you _both_." She said firmly.

Harry looked taken aback for a second then nodded. He sat down on his camp bed. She perched on Harry's trunk and Ron took a seat opposite to Harry. Making a decision, Hermione closed the door with a flick of her wand, and cast the _Muffliato_ spell for good measure. Just in case the boys got... _loud_.

Hermione steeled herself and spoke to them both, not meeting their eyes, "What I wanted to talk about was... well. My parents. They're still in Australia and I want to go get them I'll lift the memory charms and explain – things – to them. And – and I wanted to invite you two for dinner at my house, sometime. You see they've heard a lot about you and well... When I tell them that I ran around the country for a year – with two boys, no less! – they're going to want to know who I, well, ran off with." She looked up at last and saw that Ron was staring at his fingers and Harry had a blank look on his face. She felt flustered; they were exceptionally quiet.

She wasn't worried about Ron's reaction as much as she was worried about Harry's. She had... _ways_... to convince Ron. But Harry could be quite protective and he certainly wouldn't like her gallivanting off to Australia on her own. But they had to understand, this was something she wanted to do _alone_.

Finally, after a silence that seemed to tauten and strain uncomfortably, Harry said slowly: "There might be Death Eaters abroad. The Ministry hasn't caught all of them yet. Greyback, for example, is still at large. I saw the way he looked at you in Malfoy Manor. It was disgusting."

To her horror, Hermione felt tears stinging at the back of her eyes. She had also noticed the way Greyback had seemed to be lusting for her blood. It sent shivers up and down her spine; even now she sometimes had nightmares. Blinking back her tears she said pleadingly, "But, Harry, they're my _parents_... I haven't seen them in almost a year... please?"

She thought she saw a moment's flash of pain cross his eyes, but still he stayed silent.

"Fine." Ron had spoken. Hermione felt a rush of gratitude towards him; if anyone could convince Harry it was Ron. Then he continued, "But we're coming with you."

Her eyes grew wide, she wasn't expecting this. "_What_? But it'll only take a week! I can take care of myself," she argued.

He chose to ignore this. "We're not letting you go alone. Are you mental?"

"But I'll be with Mum and Dad after I lift the Memory Charms! I'm just as capable as you two." She said defiantly. Hermione looked at Harry for the support she knew she wouldn't get.

He shook his head at her, a small smile on his face. "It's not a question of capability, Hermione. And, no offence, but your Mum and Dad haven't got a chance against Death Eaters."

Hermione was infuriated. She was the one who prepared for their Horcrux quest; _she _was the one most level-headed in times of crisis; and they thought that she couldn't handle herself in _Australia_? The land of kangaroos and koala bears? Merlin's pants!

Ron seemed to guess what she was thinking, "Hermione, try to understand: how would we feel if we let you go alone and you ended up hurt? Or – or dead?

"But it's just Australia," she said, her defences were crumbling against their protective logic.

Suddenly, Harry stood up. "Yes and there could be Death Eaters there! Hermione, they'll want revenge!" Harry was furious, he looked quite mad. "And they _know_ you played a major part in bringing down Voldemort!" he looked enraged. Hermione was just a _bit_ scared of an angry Harry.

"Harry –" Ron warned.

Harry ran his hand through his hair and shoved his hands deep in his pockets as he often did when he was trying to calm himself. After looking around the room furiously for a moment, he sighed and sat down. He said, in a much softer manner, "'Mione, if it's only a week then where's the harm in us going? We just want you to be safe."

Hermione sighed, they wouldn't understand, she just wanted some time alone with her parents before she had to return to the wizarding world. Things were simpler when she was with her Mum and Dad. Leading a sort-of double-life can be very tiring.

"What about Ginny?" She asked Harry stubbornly, "You can't just leave her again."

"We'll go after she goes to Hogwarts then." He said, his expression blank. She knew he'd miss her more than he was letting on; even if they did see each other on Hogsmeade weekends.

She sighed exasperatedly, there was no point arguing with them now. Not when they knew that they had won. "Alright, fine. So when exactly do you want to leave?"

"We'll figure that out later." They fell into a collective silence. She stared at Harry, silently willing him to go downstairs, or to the loo, _anything._ Ron joined her in her silent vigil.

Harry caught them staring. Completely oblivious he asked of them, "What?"

Ron glared pointedly at him.

"Wha – oh. Right." He got up and stared uncomfortably around the room, "I'll just – er – leave..."

As soon as Harry closed the door behind him Hermione turned to Ron. He was staring at his fingers again. Her gaze flickered between the door and Ron's inert figure. She gathered up her courage and spoke, "You don't think he's angry do you?"

Ron shook his head dismissively, "What? Him?" he jerked his head in the direction of the door, "He'll get over it."

When she looked worriedly at the door and said, "I hope so," he grimaced. "Hermione, you worry too much." He got up, covered the space between his bed and Harry's trunk (where she was sitting) in two great strides, pulled her up by her arms, and pressed his lips to hers.

Hermione felt herself grow hot and she knew her cheeks must be scarlet by now. It was weird how only Ron made her feel flustered when he did things like this. When she was with Viktor she hadn't felt like this at _all_. Her stomach hadn't felt cramped with pleasure, she hadn't felt light-headed and woozy, and she'd definitely never let Viktor touch her _there_! She thought she knew, vaguely, why she never felt the spark with Viktor: she never liked him as much as she liked Ron. She'd only agreed to go out with Viktor because he was the first boy to ever really think of her as a girl... And to spite Ron, but mostly because of the first reason.

She felt something rough lightly run across her stomach. She gasped when she realised it was Ron's hand.

Ron pulled away, panting, hands still under her shirt and firmly around her bare waist. He stared down at her as if asking for permission. Hermione bit her lip and nodded slowly. Grinning triumphantly, he captured her engorged lips again.

Somehow over the space of the next ten to fifteen minutes, they ended up on the bed. Hermione, between suppressed moans, had succeeded in pulling off Ron's shirt. He had glared at her incredulously when she's refused to let him do the same. She hadn't paid attention to his reasoning that 'it was only fair'.

Finally Hermione pulled back, she felt sure that she'd faint from lack of air. Ron let out a grumpy huff of breath and rested his chin on her head. She drew lazy circles on his chest and then buried her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder, circling her arms tight around his neck. Hermione felt so at peace it was amazing to think that less than two months ago she'd been living in a tent and fighting an evil dark wizard bent on world domination. She hadn't felt safe then, no matter what enchantments and protective charms they'd put around the tent. But now, Ron's strong arms encircled her and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest calmed her to the core and she felt like she was six again, in the arms of her father, sobbing because of the monsters in her closet. But she was safe, no matter how many monsters there were in the closet, she was always safe.


	14. Impurity

Impurity

Impurity

In the dimly lit room, it was hard to see the pool of blood on the ground. Harry cautiously stepped around the dark puddle. He looked up and his eyes met the cloudy grey eyes of a withered lady. She was watching him curiously, her head cocked to the side. She opened her mouth; maybe she could enlighten him as to where they were. But instead of an elderly voice a horrifying, gut-piercing, sound came out.

"_I have seen your heart and it is mine." _

Harry watched, petrified to the spot, as she writhed and turned into Nagini. The snake opened its mouth and heaved up the lifeless body of Ron. Harry's eyes stayed rooted to the spot; as much as he wanted to, he couldn't look away. The snake lay still on the floor, silent. The silence was deafening; it pressed on his ears until he felt that his head would explode. Nagini opened her mouth again, and this time Hermione fell out, her eyes were open but unseeing. Again and again the snake regurgitated the unmoving bodies of his loved ones: the Weasleys, Luna, and Neville... Harry retched at the sight; he would surely die from the pain tearing at his heart. The snake slithered closer to Harry. Its eyes were blood red: he could see himself reflected in them. Silence fell again as the snake rose up to his eye-level, but Harry didn't have the will to move. Despair was closing in on him, crushing him, squeezing him so tight his ribs felt broken.

The snake broke the silence with a horrible hissing sound, and spit out a barely alive Ginny. Ginny clutched at her throat where two puncture wounds poured shockingly scarlet blood. The shock of seeing Ginny like this unfroze him, he stumbled towards her, she was comatose. He kneeled in the growing pool of blood, cradling her head in his lap. Ginny raised a bloodied hand to his cheek, a second later it went limp... and he was falling through a veil... falling... falling...

Harry woke up shivering; a thin sheen of sweat covered his chest. He wiped his eyes; just a dream. It was just a dream. Still he had to make sure – make quite sure – that Ginny was... that they – his _family _– weren't... weren't ... He wouldn't let the thought form.

It was over. Over. Over. _Over, _he thought continuously; as if repeating the words would somehow calm him. He swung his legs over the bed, unsteadily sitting up. He looked around at the blurry outlines of the room. Ron had woken up and left already, he could see that; and he'd left the curtains closed. The little sunlight streaming through thick curtains cast the room into eerie shadows. Harry held his head in his hands; for the first time in two months his head hurt.

He'd never expected to live, even before he saw Snape's memories. He'd thought that if he could destroy the Horcruxes, and get Ron and Hermione through the war alive, then – even if _he_ didn't live – it would all have been worth it. It was a miracle, a miracle they were all alive...

But they weren't all alive. People very close to Harry were gone, never to come back. _Never; _the word cut through him like a knife. A rush of great sadness spread over him as he thought of them. Fred: always laughing, Tonks: knocking things over, and Lupin... Lupin, the last great connection Harry had had with his parents. And Teddy, Remus in miniature, who'd live without ever knowing how remarkable his own parents were... All the things Harry had managed to cram in one place and think about only in that twilight state between waking and sleeping came flooding back. Broken images flashed through his mind like a film without sound: Sirius falling through the veil; Dumbledore, broken, at the foot of the highest Tower; Tonks and Lupin, lying side by side, their faces expressionless; Fred's face, frozen in the act of his last laugh; and Harry's mother... The deaths of so many were on his conscience. Harry pressed his hand to his head, stars burst in the back of his eyes. As more uninvited memories raced through his mind, Harry felt his eyes moisten.

He pushed the memories back, there was no use dwelling in the past. The deaths of Fred, Tonks, and Lupin would always leave a hole in his heart but he hoped that eventually he could move on. It would be disrespectful to them not to do so, because they had sacrificed their lives, so that he may have a future. Gathering his composure he stood up.

He was still shaky on his feet and his head felt like elephants were tap dancing on it. Nevertheless, he braced himself and half-stumbled across the room to the door. Maybe breakfast would make him feel better. His hand was poised to open the door, when there was a knock; the noise resounded around Harry's head, making him feel nauseas. Grimacing, he opened the door and was greeted by Ginny. She was holding a breakfast tray laden with toast, bacon, eggs, and hash browns. Too late he realised how he must look, disheveled hair and rumpled clothes.

"Morning!" The sound of her cheery voice sent another wave of nausea through his head. He grunted and held the door open for her. She set the tray on the side table and plunked down on the bed. He closed the door and climbed onto the bed. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the headboard. She scooted closer to him so that he was forced to raise and arm and hang it around her shoulders. She deposited the breakfast tray in his lap and commanded, "Eat."

He looked down at the food, normally he would've inhaled it in a heartbeat, but his head was still pounding relentlessly and it was all he could do to keep the unwelcome memories from resurfacing. However, obedient as ever, he picked up a strip of bacon and popped it in his mouth, he chewed laboriously and swallowed; it felt like cardboard going down his throat. Ginny, looking like she knew exactly what he was thinking, pointed at the mug of pumpkin juice on the tray. He took a sip, grimaced and turned to her.

"Anything special today? I haven't forgotten your birthday, have I?"

She laughed, "Yea, you did, and I made you breakfast in bed."

He knew he didn't forget her birthday, they were just teasing. "Right, so what's the occasion?"

"Dunno, Mum reckons you need a bit more food shoved down your throat than the rest of us lowly peasants."

"I'd be happy to share," He pointed at the toast, "but why exactly do I need food – er – shoved down my throat?"

She shrugged, "Mum can be mental like that." A slight pause, "I made those by the way." She pointed to the plate of hash browns.

Harry forked some of the Ginny-made hash browns into his mouth. He wasn't particularly hungry but she had made the effort to make him breakfast, the least he could do was eat it. Harry was sure normally it would've been delicious but his appetite wasn't the greatest after the nightmare.

Ginny scrutinized him for a second, as though looking for something. Then her brown eyes slid downwards focusing on the blue fabric of the blanket. She played with a frayed end. He watched her, transfixed. She kept getting prettier by the day. Her hair, curled by the added humidity in the air, fell in soft waves over her back, every time she blinked her exquisite eyelashes fell against her red cheeks, the smattering of freckles across her nose seemed to blend in with her blushing face. She looked the quintessence of beauty.

A moment's hesitation after she said "Um..." She looked up at him blushing abashedly, "Do they taste... ok?"

Harry mentally smacked himself on the head, "Yea, they're really great. You should make them more often." He nodded enthusiastically and – just to illustrate his compliment – forked more hash browns into his mouth.

She watched him with narrowed eyes, the blush on her cheeks fading. "You're sure, are you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"'Cause you making faces like I'm forcing you to eat parchment."

He choked and his eyes watered. He grabbed the mug of pumpkin juice and downed the rest of the juice in one. He cleared his throat and said, "Erm. No. They taste great, really. I just – don't have much of an appetite today."

"Why not?"

He mumbled something about a headache and not sleeping well.

"Not sleeping well!" She repeated indignantly, "You slept till 11:30!"

He shook his head, "Nightmare."

Ginny's expression changed from one of indignance to understanding. She took his hand and squeezed it. He smiled weakly at her and offered her some eggs. She shook her head, choosing instead to snuggle into his chest, almost upsetting the tray in the process. Harry, having finished the hash browns, toast, and juice, replaced the tray on the side table and looked down at Ginny. Her eyes never left his as she raised a tentative hand to his cheek, stroking it lovingly. He leaned into her hand, reveling in her touch. She raised herself up on her knees and he tightened his hold on her waist, not wanting her to leave. She traced the scar on his forehead lightly, then cupped his face in her hands and kissed the scar tenderly. Harry closed his eyes, breathing in the flowery smell that he'd come to associate with Ginny. Her hair brushed against his nose and cheek and he grinned lazily up at her, feeling like he'd swallowed a cauldron-full of Amortentia.

Smiling, she whispered, "Feel better?" He nodded, feeling overcome with... _something_. His headache had receded somewhat and he found it easier to cope with the real world.

"Come downstairs then, we'll play Quidditch and Hermione wants to talk to you about your study schedules."

Harry made a face; he didn't much fancy studying for his N.E.W.T.S. He sighed, "You go, I need to find a shirt and –"

With a mischievous twinkle in her eye, she interrupted him, "I think I quite like you without a shirt..."

Harry grinned, "I think I'd like you without a shirt too..."

She burst into hysterical laughter. Wiping her eyes, she picked up the tray and took a step towards the door. Half-turning, she said over her shoulder, "Be careful what you wish for." She walked to the door, opened it, winked at him, and walked away, her hips swinging side-to-side.

Harry fell back on the bed, trying his hardest not to have impure thoughts.


	15. Birthday Treats and Weasley Traits

Birthday Treats, Weasley Traits and Knickers in a Bunch

Normally Harry was averse to being woken up by his glasses nearly poking him to death. But as he pulled on his jeans he thought about the flash of red he'd seen outside the bedroom door. And he smiled. Because even though he lived in a house full of redheads, he had a pretty good idea which particular redhead bewitched his glasses to poke him.

By the time Harry had ambled down the stairs Ginny was sitting on the kitchen table, twirling her wand like a baton. Multicoloured bubbles were pouring out from the tip of her wand, floating around the room and popping everywhere. Harry stood at the bottom of the stairs and surveyed the bubble-filled room. He did a double take and refocused his attention on Ginny. She was – for the first time in his conscious memory – wearing a dress. It was white with large, pale-yellow polka-dots, a dangerously low neckline and a lilac bow that cinched at her waist. She was wearing the locket Harry had given her; it seemed to point like an arrow towards the never-before-seen cleavage. His eyes roved over her slim body, settling on her legs. The dress fell just past her knees, so that much of her long slender legs were available for his viewing pleasure. She was wearing high-heeled sandals that showed of her artistically painted toenails. Ginny 'hem-hem'd in a way reminiscent of Umbridge then said sweetly, "Harry. My face is up here." Harry wrenched his eyes away from her tantalising legs with difficulty.

Ginny set her wand aside, the bubbles ceased flowing, and she beamed at him. Harry wished her a Happy Birthday. She grinned childishly and stuck out her leg, wriggling her foot. "Shoe!"

It was indeed a shoe. A new one. Harry nodded seriously, "That's a very pretty shoe." He spoke as he would to a child. Ginny nodded her pleasurable agreement. Harry covered the space between them in two great steps. She looked up at him; even when she was sitting on a table he was taller. He placed his hands on her waist and she put hers flat on his chest. With one finger she circled the spot where the locket-Horcrux had left an oval-shaped scar. Although she'd asked, he'd never told her what had caused this particular scar. He brought his face closer to hers, their foreheads almost touching; he could feel her breath on his lips.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"Yea?" he found himself whispering too.

She looked at him a long moment. Her eyes shone and it was as if she was searching for something in his face. All too soon the moment passed, and she looked down, disappointed; she hadn't found what she was looking for.

Harry braced himself; he was going to tell her. It'd been too long, and there wasn't much time before she left. He was certain that she felt the same way. Well, as certain as he could get without outright asking her. His mouth felt abnormally dry all of a sudden. "Gin?"

She rested her head against his shoulder. "Hmm...?"

"I love you."

* * *

Ginny froze. Her heart seemed to be beating faster than ever. She closed her eyes letting his words wash over her like waves. _I love you. I love you. I love you. _The words calmed her and made her feel strangely energized at the same time. She was so caught up in the way she felt that she forgot Harry was there. At least until he pulled back, looking crestfallen. His eyes were dark and he looked older and more dejected than she'd ever seen him.

He stared at her, a kind of sadness in his eyes. "I'm sorry." He made to pull away. Ginny, realising what he must've thought, held on tighter and shook her head. She stared at his eyes, the orbs of cool forest green full of _love_, love she'd never noticed before. She wanted him to say it again but her surprise seemed to have rendered her temporarily speechless. She licked her lips and swallowed, trying to wet her throat. "What?"

He looked taken aback for a moment, and then he said quietly, "You heard." He spoke to her knees.

"Yes, but – say it again."

Harry swallowed; there was a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "I love –" His voice faltered. "You. I love you." She stared at him, her mouth slightly open; speechless again. Throwing her arms around his neck, she sighed happily.

Harry stayed quiet for a long time then, his voice dangerously low, he said, "That's it?"

Ginny, lost in something she herself couldn't define, didn't hear him. She started when Harry attempted to pull off her arms from around his neck. She held on tighter and laughed, "I love you too, Harry… so much." She said the last two words in a whisper, then buried her head in his neck.

She didn't see Harry's blissful smile.

* * *

The day after Ginny's birthday everyone went to Diagon Alley. Ginny's Hogwarts' list had arrived and she needed new school robes (which George bought for her). Presently they were walking towards Flourish and Blotts to get the last of Ginny's books. Harry dropped back from Hermione and Ginny's ardent discussion of pygmy puff habits (Arnold had taken a liking to sleeping on people's heads). He fell into step with Mr. Weasley.

"Mr. Weasley?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away my dear boy, ask away."

"I was wondering if me and Ginny could – after she's done buying her supplies – could we go to my and Ron's apartment?"

He looked weary. "Any particular reason?"

"Oh, er, she said she'd help me decorate ..."

"And will Ron and Hermione be helping you decorate?"

"Erm. Well – No. Hermione'll be busy making our schedules and Ron will ... Ron needs to go over his work things with George." Harry's on-the-spot explanations sounded feeble even to his own ears. "We'll only be there until around six...," he added pleadingly.

Mr. Weasley watched Ginny pay for the books. He took off his glasses, wiped them with his robes, put them back on and cleared his throat. "You know, Harry, she's still _very_ young. I wouldn't want you two to do anything rash... It wouldn't hurt to take things slow."

Harry assured him that they would indeed proceed with the utmost caution. He was mortified that Mr. Weasley seemed to know exactly what kind of decorating Harry had in mind. In the end though, Mr. Weasley, still looking doubtful, relented.

* * *

"You're sure you brought the keys?"

'Yes, Ginny, for the hundredth time, Yes!"

They were standing outside the apartment doors and Harry was searching all the pockets in his robes for the coveted key that Ginny kept heckling him about.

"And you're absolutely sure –?"

"Ha!" Harry pulled the keys out triumphantly and dangled them in front of Ginny's face. She rolled her eyes and pointed imperiously to the door. He unlocked the door and held it open for her, bowing her in mockingly. She rolled her eyes again, "Watch it, Potter; pretty soon your head's going to get too big for the doorways."

Harry closed the door behind him and said in a mock snobby voice, "I'm not too worried, I'm sure they'll enlarge the doors for me. I am, after all, _the_ Harry Potter."

Ginny laughed, "You are the limit, Harry."

Harry grinned and stretched out on the couch. She sat down beside him and folded her hands on her lap. She stared demurely up at him. Her cheeks rose to a cherry-red blush.

"You're blushing," Harry said softly. He brushed her hair away from her face.

Ginny's cheeks got redder; she tucked a strand of hair behind her hair and said shyly, "An unfortunate Weasley trait. I can't help it."

"It's an unfortunate Weasley trait I happen to like."

The blush on her cheek faded to a tinted pink. She scooted closer, put one leg over his knees; her arms went around his neck. Her fingers stroked the back of his neck, making the hair there stand on end. Just the thought of what they were about to do made the front of Harry's pants feel tight.

Ginny bit her lip and looked up at him; her eyes were wide and innocent. "Harry I – um. I've never – you know..." Seeing the look on his face she added, "I want to though... I'm ready, Harry."

"Are you sure, Gin? I don't want to do anything you'll regret." His voice was hoarse and his breathing was already shallow.

In response, she kissed him. She pulled back a minute later; her lips were red and puffy. The doe-eyed look full of innocence she gave him as she leaned in again only heightened his arousal. He stood up pulling her with him, his lips still glued firmly to her. When they were in the hallway leading towards the bedrooms, Ginny made to go towards the bedroom to the right. Harry pulled back.

"What's wrong?" She asked him.

He shook his head. "Nothing. That's Ron's room."

Ginny giggled, "Oh, we wouldn't want to –"

Harry leaned in again, "No. We wouldn't." He pressed his lips to hers once more, guiding her backwards onto his bed.

* * *

Harry started, opened his eyes and looked up to see Ginny bending over him. His gaze immediately went below her collarbone, taking in the soft mounds of bare flesh half-hidden there. Her hair parted and fell on either side of her neck, hiding the treasures he so desperately wanted to see. In the darkness his lowered eyes must've made him look like he was still asleep, because she touched his face and asked, "Harry?"

Harry didn't want to answer, didn't want to get up. All he wanted to do was to keep staring at those delectable mounds of flesh.

"Harry? Harry?"

He sighed. "I'm awake."

"Should we be getting back now? I think it's almost four thirty..."

He didn't register that she was speaking again. He was still immersed in the post-orgasmic feeling.

"Harry?"

"Wha – oh. I thought you fell asleep?"

She smiled sweetly, "Just woke up. I think I have enough time for a shower, don't you?"

"A shower? What for?"

"Harry, I think people might wonder if we were really decorating in here, if I go home smelling like –"

Harry grabbed her waist and pulled her in, burying his face in her sweet-smelling neck. She giggled and pressed her lips to his neck. He said, "You smell just like you always do."

"Oh? And how do I always smell?"

"Ah." Harry was brought up short by the question. He could recognize her smell a mile away, but describe it? He didn't think he could.

"Well?"

"Ah. Well. You – er. You smell like, well, you."

"And how do I smell like?"

"Er. You smell like ... Ginny?"

"How very original, Harry! Ginny smells like Ginny!" She laughed.

Suddenly she kissed him, thrusting her tongue into his mouth and rubbing up sensually against his thigh. Just when he was getting really into the kiss she pulled away. She smirked at the dazed look on his face.

Without another word, she got up and – before he could fully appreciate her figure (even in the dark) – she pulled the sheets up from the floor, tucked herself firmly in them and walked to the bathroom, sashaying her hips from side to side.

"You should wear see-through bed sheets more often!" he called after her retreating figure.

She didn't even dignify his remark with a response. After she'd closed the bathroom door, Harry sat up and looked around the room. Pieces of clothing were strewn around, Ginny's bra (leaving next to nothing to the imagination) among them. Harry grinned and picked it up from the floor. He studied it carefully, taking in the lace and the straps. He had to know how to open it faster. He hooked the two straps together, and then tried opening them with one hand. After a couple of tries he succeeded. And a deviant idea formed in his mind. He grinned and put the bra in his robes' pocket. Let her come back and freak out.


	16. Fred

Fred

"Freddy!" Ginny shrieked at the sight of her brother. She launched herself at him, hugging him tight, and revelling in the feel of his familiar arms encircling her. He lifted her off the ground and spun her around. She laughed, throwing her head back. He laughed too; just like when they were little. He brought her down gently and she hugged him again, never wishing to let go. Everything faded away. Ginny didn't notice her surroundings: a plain field with nothing but sun-scorched grass and a never-ending horizon. All that mattered was that he was here, with her. Questions could be asked later, or maybe, never at all.

"My how you've grown, little Gin-Gin."

Ginny laughed and mumbled into his shirt, "Hasn't been_ that_ long."

"Felt like an eternity to me."

"Probably 'cause you missed your precious, _Angelina_." She teased.

He didn't laugh. A sense of foreboding formed into a tight knot in Ginny's chest. "Fred?"

Her brother's form shifted. The once smooth and familiar alabaster skin became wax-like and rugged. He grew bigger and unnaturally muscular. Ginny looked up, but before she could get a glimpse of more than grey skin the monster had her in his hold. She fought desperately: pinching, biting, kicking, but to no avail. His hands, with their long, yellow nails scratched her face and arms, His grip was supernaturally strong; she could already feel bruises forming. And she could barely breathe. His hand closed around her mouth, cutting off her major air supply. She looked up, trying to fight him off. His eyes fell on hers. His eyes were red slits. She shut her eyes tight and screamed.

* * *

"Shh... Shh. Nothing's going to hurt you."

Ginny eyes flew open. Someone was holding her, someone big. She screamed again, shrinking as the shrill sound filled the room. She fought against the person's firm grip, still not able to distinguish between nightmare and reality. Her head crashed against a soft cotton t-shirt as she thrashed.

"Ginny. Shh... it's me, only me."

George. He had pulled her up and on his lap. She looked up at him, and as she did she noticed the obvious similarity to Fred. She burst into tears; her tears almost drenched George's shirt. Twice she stopped, only to start again as the bubble of nostalgia built in her chest. George tried hard to comfort her, whispering things into her ear, rubbing her back. Nothing worked for more than mere seconds. She held on tight to his neck, positively shaking as the tears subsided to half-choked sobs. Finally, she stopped, too exhausted, and too drained to focus on more than her breathing.

George gave her some time to compose herself. When she had stopped sobbing he kissed her forehead and asked softly, "Wanna talk about it?"

She shook her head frantically and said thickly through her tears, "No, no. Really, I'm fine. It's over, and I'm ok, so there's nothing to talk about. Really." She was rambling, avoiding, hiding, and they both knew it. She rested her head against his chest; just to avoid looking at him.

George was quiet for a long time. Then he picked up her right hand and studied it carefully.

"Ginny, do you remember when you were little, and you were playing around the chicken coop – even though you weren't supposed to – and you got a splinter, right here?"

Ginny nodded, still not meeting his eyes.

"And you didn't tell anyone because you thought it would hurt when it was dug out?"

She nodded again; she thought she knew what he was getting at. The splinter had swollen and inflamed the whole hand.

"Nightmare's are like that Gin-Gin. You keep it all inside and eventually it'll be too much. You have to talk to someone."

"There's nothing to talk about, George. It was a nightmare. I've had tons..."

"But this one was about Fred," he pointed out quietly.

Ginny stared at him, "How do you know?"

"Because, Gin. Big brothers just _know_ these things."

Ginny decided that the best way was to ignore him and move on. "Shut up, George. I have to get ready for school."

George laughed, "Gin, it's 6 a.m. The Express doesn't leave 'till 11. I think you have more than enough time to talk to me, get ready, and do the Irish jig."

"It's only – what? _The Irish jig_? Where'd that come from?"

He looked surprised too, "Dunno. My sense of humor must be coming back."

Ginny laughed and hugged him around the shoulders. "I missed you, Georgie."

"I was always right here, Gin."

Ginny sighed, "I know, but... you were so quiet and unresponsive. It's like you were here, but you didn't want to be... you never joked." She explained.

George hugged her fiercely, "I just – I just needed to get my head on straight after... you know. I don't think I'll ever get over it. But, hey, life happens right?"

"Life happens," She agreed. She got up and headed over to her trunk to pick out what to wear for the day.

"Ginny?"

She half-turned, facing him, "yea?"

"Never call me Georgie again."

She sniggered and threw herself at him, hugging him into oblivion.

* * *

Harry watched, hands shoved deep in his pockets, as Ginny packed the last of her clothes in her trunk. He'd come straight here after he'd had his breakfast. Her door had been ajar and so now he was watching her. Over the last few months it had become a sort-of hobby of his, watching her had. He gave a small cough, announcing his presence. Her lips curved upwards into a small smile, but otherwise she gave no intimation of the knowledge of his presence. He knocked on the door. She just kept on folding clothes. Unable to withstand much more of this _game _he burst into her room and sat down on her desk chair.

"I win," it was softly spoken and barely audible. If Harry hadn't been glaring at her, he wouldn't have heard it at all. He stood up, walked to her, and stood right behind her, so close that her back almost touched his chest. "I wasn't aware we were playing a game." His voice was hoarse, and that familiar monster in his chest raised its head hopefully.

"We were, and I won. So, where's my prize?"

Harry grinned, trying to keep in check his monster's feelings. He picked up a Chocolate Frog wrapper from the floor and said, "Here's your prize."

She whirled around, and seemed momentarily surprised to find him so close to her. She stepped back a bit in her surprise, looked down at his outstretched hand, and grimaced, "Well that's hardly fair, is it? I don't want _that_."

Harry dropped the wrapper, and stepped closer to her, "Well, what do you want then?"

She slung an arm around his neck, and his breath hitched in anticipation. But she said, quite simply, "You."

Harry pretended to be immensely relieved, as if he wasn't sure if she wanted him, "Oh, thank Merlin," and then he proceeded to snog her senseless. Five minutes later she pulled away, breathing heavily, and sighed. Harry untangled his fingers from her hair and settled them on her waist, and kissed her forehead.

"Harry," she said breathlessly, clutching his t-shirt as if it was her life-line. "Come with me. I'm sure McGonagall won't mi –"

Harry shook his head sadly, "I can't Gin. You know I can't."

"Why not?" she said, her voice fierce.

Harry attempted a joke. "Because my laundry's not done?"

She glared at him, "Not funny."

Harry sighed and pulled her down on the bed and sat next to her. "Listen, Gin, if I go to Hogwarts –"

"You'd get a proper education like you're_ supposed_ to!"

"Since when do you care for a_ proper_ education anyway?" Harry said, without heat.

"I don't." she sighed, "It's just that, it's not enough time, I mean... we've barely been together two months and I have to go off to bloody Hogwarts to effing _study_."

"Language." Harry and Ginny both looked around to the half-open door where Hermione was standing.

Ginny looked wearily at the stack of books in Hermione's arms, "What are those?"

Harry recognized the books; they were the books Hermione had 'borrowed' from the Hogwarts library to help with their mission. Hermione looked at him, silently asking him if it was ok to tell Ginny. He nodded discreetly.

"These," said Hermione brightly, while walking into the room, "are the books we took from the Hogwarts library to help us with... you know. I was wondering if you could just cram them into your trunk and return them for me."

Ginny flopped on her back on the bed. "I don't think I can cram anything else into my trunk, but you're more than welcome to try. But I swear, Hermione, if Pince yells at me –"

"She won't, I've written a letter explaining why I'd done it. It's in the big leather book."

"Oh. Alright then." Ginny said, crossly.

Harry watched as Hermione opened the trunk and about half the clothes popped out. Ginny leapt up on the bed, "Hermione! That took me all morning and about half of last night!"

Hermione just laughed, "Obviously, Ginny you haven't gotten used to using magic outside Hogwarts yet." She pointed her wand at the trunk: all the clothes flew out and landed in a heap on the floor.

"Oh, yes! I can see that _you _certainly have." Ginny huffed, folding her hands over her chest, and leaning back against Harry (who was remaining extremely quiet, deciding that it would be best not to interfere).

Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry guessed that Hermione already knew the reason behind Ginny's less-than-friendly attitude. She placed each book lovingly in the bottom of the trunk, and then flicked her wand again. Ginny's jeans picked themselves up from the floor, folded themselves, and placed themselves neatly in the bottom of the trunk.

Ginny sat up straight, her eyes shining, an awed look on her face.

"Do you want me to teach you that?" Hermione asked, a hint of a smirk on her face.

Ginny nodded, "Yes. But not now. Maybe when I come home for Christmas?"

Hermione nodded.

Ginny, desperate to get some last-minute alone-time with Harry before she left, said, "Hermione, why don't you finish packing my clothes since you look like you're have bushels of fun…And Harry – uh – you come with me."

Hermione's eyes were a little too understanding as a delighted looking Harry and a mischievous looking Ginny left the room.


	17. The Hogwarts Express

The Hogwarts Express

The Hogwarts Express

Ginny smiled fondly as she looked at her family over her mother's shoulder. She hugged her mum tight, assuring her that she would study for her N.E.W.T.S, be careful playing Quidditch, and, in general, stay out of any form of trouble. When it seemed that her mother would never let go, Ginny gently prised her mum's fingers from around her; her mum let go reluctantly. Next, Ginny was smothered by her brothers, each of them in turn yelling out things to do, and things not to do, tips for Quidditch, and congratulating her (again) on the Captain's badge gleaming on her chest. She extracted herself from amidst the Weasley huddle, with difficulty. Hermione was smiling warmly at her; Ginny rushed to her and gave her a huge hug.

"I won't be there to help this year, but start reviewing for N.E.W.T.S at least a month before." Hermione's gaze had turned mock-stern.

Ginny flashed the older witch a luminous smile. "You know I always do, Hermione. I absolutely _adore_ books."

In response, Hermione snorted.

* * *

Harry drifted away from the crying, hugging, comforting knot of Weasleys and Hermione, and towards the train. The scarlet Hogwarts Express looked happily familiar to Harry. He remembered where he'd first met Ginny, where Hermione had shown up and pointed out the dirt on Ron's nose, where Harry had bought half of the lunch trolley for him and Ron, where Ron had told him about Chocolate Frog cards and Dumbledore, where he'd sat with Luna, Neville, and his freedom-loving toad in his sixth year. With a grin, he remembered the Flying Ford-Anglia. The memories were abundant and almost all happy. Hogwarts had been his home, next to the Burrow he couldn't imagine where else he wanted to be. He looked over his shoulder at Hermione and Ginny. They were hugging and Hermione seemed to be reproving Ginny. He looked front again, too absorbed in his thoughts to realise that Ginny had come up behind him. He started when she slipped her hand into his, squeezing it reassuringly. Harry looked down at her.

"You'll miss it, won't you?" Her voice was quiet, as if to make sure no one would overhear. As if this was something private and intimate and meant only for them to share. Ginny stroked his fingers with her thumb, and he let the feeling carry him back to the quiet evenings he'd spent with her in Hogwarts.

Harry nodded, too engrossed in his thoughts to do much else. She led him by the hand to an isolated corner of the platform. Harry placed his hand on her waist, his eyes glazed over as he stared at her. His eyes roved over her pale skin, taking in the smattering of freckles over her arms, and collarbone, and heart-shaped face; his eyes came to a rest on her shockingly red hair. He touched it slowly, relishing each strand, the smell, the feel. He realised, with a jolt, that it'd be at least two months (until the first Hogsmeade weekend) before he could touch it again. He felt it with more enthusiasm now, letting the strands slip and slide between his fingers. He brought her closer, and inhaled the smell of her.

"Harry," she teased, "Do you love me or my hair?"

"Your hair," he said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. She glared at him.

Still bathing in the glow of her hair, he asked dazedly, "What?"

She shook her head, muttering something that sounded like 'boys'. Her gaze softened when she realised he was staring at her hair with a sort of helpless '_whatever shall I do without you?' _look. She stroked his cheek, and whispered, "I'll miss you."

Harry, still staring at her hair, whispered back, "I know."

"Um. This is the part where you say 'I'll miss you too' ..."

"Oh. Well. I'll miss you too, then."

She laughed, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away and said, "People will see."

"Too late for that."

Harry looked 'round. A grinning Neville followed by a vaguely smiling Luna came into view. "Hullo, Ginny, Harry. Glad to see you're enjoying yourselves." Harry grinned and raised a lazy hand; he'd go over and talk with him after Ginny and Luna left.

"Neville, are you, at least, coming to Hogwarts?" Ginny asked, glaring pointedly at Harry. Harry rolled his eyes at Neville.

"Don't think so. I've decided to study with them," He nodded in Harry's direction. Ginny let out a frustrated growl.

"I felt the same way. There will be absolutely no one to have fun with at Hogwarts this year…" Luna added absent-mindedly. She looked at Harry with big luminescent eyes, and handed him a flask from her bag. "Freshwater Plimpie's soup." She said, in response to Harry's questioning look. "Daddy said you enjoyed it when you went over last year."

Thinking that maybe (highly improbable) the gnomes in the Weasley garden would enjoy it, Harry said, "Er. Thanks, Luna."

She smiled at him, and then turned to Ginny, "We'd better get going; the train will be leaving in fifteen minutes."

Ginny nodded, "Give us a sec."

Luna took Neville's hand and led him across the platform to the Weasley's and Hermione.

Ginny turned to Harry. "You'll write?"

"Of course." Harry thought that given the look on Ginny's face, it would be suicide not to.

"And you'll visit every Hogsmeade weekend?"

"Every single one."

Harry leant in for a kiss, after all, to go a month without one...

But, Ginny shook her head, "People will see." She reiterated.

"To hell with them." Harry felt like a child denied of the newest toy, or worse yet, the newest broomstick, even when he'd been patient and at his very best behaviour.

Ginny reminded him softly, "My brothers..."

Harry mentally smacked himself, "Oh _hell_." He sighed grumpily, then held out his hand.

She took his hand, and he pulled her flush to him, and planted a solid kiss on her mouth. Two minutes, and they broke apart, Ginny panting slightly; Harry still unsatisfied.

As they walked towards the train, she said, "If you're hoping that sort of behaviour will endear you to my brothers, you are sadly mistaken."

"I didn't really have your brothers in mind, just then." He replied, and she grinned.

"That's good to know."

* * *

Five minutes later, after a fresh round of hugs from her family (Hermione and Harry included, of course) Ginny boarded the train. She waved, laughing as George mimicked Ron staring, love-sick, at Hermione. The Hogwarts Express whistled shrilly and started gathering speed. Her eyes locked with Harry, and she could clearly feel the longing emanating from him. And she wished she could stay and comfort him. She kissed her palm, and blew the kiss to Harry, who blushed, looking around covertly; as if expecting her brothers to jump him any second. He raised a hand in farewell, and she thought: if she felt like this now, how would she cope in the coming months, with no one but Luna for pleasurable company?

As the train rounded a corner she chanced a last glance at her family. And, for the first time since she was eleven, she cried on the Hogwarts Express.


	18. Australia, pt 1

Australia

Harry watched as the Hogwarts Express carried Ginny away. He sighed, bowing his head, and fingering his scar... he stopped when he realised what he was doing. The old habit hadn't gone away.

A small hand slipped into his and he looked down, momentarily thrilled in thinking that Ginny hadn't gone after all. This hand fell different however, and he realised that it was Hermione; she was smiling sadly up at him. He smiled back and squeezed her hand; they had become much closer since that talk about _The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore _outside the tent.

"Come on, mate." Ron had come up behind him. Harry turned to the Weasleys thinking that even if he didn't have Ginny all the time anymore, at least he had his family.

* * *

"So? When are we leaving?"

"Blimey, Hermione, you're eager to leave, aren't you?"

"I just want to see my parents, Ronald!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were in Ron's room packing for their trip to Australia. And Ron and Hermione, as was expected, were bickering again. It had started out when Hermione had packed the wrong jeans for Ron ("Those are too tight, woman!"), then Ron had problems with the way Hermione packed ("Don't shove those in with _those!_"), and then Hermione had the nerve to pack books into the trunk ("_Why,_ in the name of all that is holy, would we need _books_?").

Harry watched, a small, reminiscent smile on his face, as Hermione, having had enough, threw down the books and clothes and stood up. "Well, Ronald," she said shrilly, "since _you're_ so great at preparing for trips, why don't _you_ do it all!" She turned to Harry; he recoiled a bit under her furious gaze, the smile sliding off his face. "And don't you _dare_ help him!" She snarled at him, and with that she stormed down the stairs, practically shaking with anger.

Ron turned to him, looking incredulous, and rolled his eyes, "Women."

Harry refrained from pointing out the obvious.

* * *

They left for Australia the day after next. Hermione's beaded bag was, once again, packed to the hilt with clothes, books, and food ("They _do_ have food in Australia, mum"). They were apparating to the Ministry, then buying an international Portkey to Bulgaria where they would meet up with Krum, (Hermione just wanted to meet him) who would show them to the Bulgarian Ministry; from there they would take another Portkey to Australia.

After the numerous recallings of Mrs. Weasley ("You forgot the _pudding_!"), they finally set out at noon. Once in the Ministry Harry, Ron, and Hermione dropped in on Kingsley for a quick hello before going to the Department of Transportation to buy the international Portkey. Ron, of course, insisted that he pay a third of the money, adamantly claiming that it was 'his share'. Hermione retaliated by saying how utterly _ridiculous_ that was, and Harry shut them both up by saying that _he'd_ pay for everything. They both proceeded to drown him in disagreements but Harry obstinately reassured them that he had money pouring in from all quarters (Boy-Who-Lived and whatnot); more than what he knew to do with.

The ride on the Portkey was uncomfortable, to say the least, even if it did last all of five seconds. The last time Harry had taken a Portkey was nearly a year ago, and he _still_ preferred brooms. They crashed on top of a lonely hill somewhere outside the Bulgarian city of Sofia. Apparating to a wizarding pub (that Hermione claimed to have read about), they ordered lunch; Hermione had decided that they would leave the food Mrs. Weasley had packed for them until dinner. After lunch they found a nearby muggle inn and went up to the clerk.

"A room for three, please."

Harry was about to point out their need for two separate rooms when Hermione cut in, "Um... Ron? I think we need _two_ rooms."

"Why waste money? It's just you and us."

Hermione raised her eyebrow. Ron seemed to shrink under her gaze. A second later his face lit up in an expression of realization. "Oh..." he started, "Right." He turned to the clerk and cleared his throat. "Yes. Two rooms please."

Once the clerk had shown them to two adjoining rooms, Hermione (kissing Ron lightly on the lips first) disappeared inside her own room and locked the connecting door. Ron, after trying - unsuccessfully - to get the door open, collapsed on one of the beds. "I don't think I can take much of this traveling, mate."

Harry laughed as he flicked on the television, "It's been an hour since we landed on that hill. We barely walked a kilometer."

"Still. I need to relax... and eat. When's Hermione going to come out?"

"Dunno." Harry said, pre-occupied with the TV. There was a rather interesting show about a wizard living among 'mortals'.

"What do you mean?! Hermione had the basket of food!" Ron sounded slightly panicked. He stared forlornly at the door to Hermione's room. Whether it was because of the food or Hermione, Harry couldn't tell.

Harry rolled his eyes. Throwing the covers over himself he settled down for a nap. In the background he could hear Ron fiddling with the television.

* * *

After an overnight stay in the hotel and a brief visit with Viktor Krum, they arrived at the Australian Ministry. The building was vast and incredibly tall. It was shaped like a gigantic 50 feet high hexagon. Their insignia was emblazoned across the gate; the word 'magic' was as tall as Ron. The ministry was in the midst of the bustling capital; Canberra. All around Harry witches and wizards were rushing in and out of the ministry gate and muggles were driving their cars along the busy roads.

Ron's mouth fell open. "And they don't notice the big hexagonal building between these two shops?"

Hermione, her tone exasperated, said "Magic, Ronald. The Australian ministry has put a powerful charm on the building to make it visible to only wizards. Muggles don't notice it. It's like Grimmauld Place."

Ron looked at Hermione affectionately, slinging an arm around her shoulders, "And you read this...?"

Hermione replied, predictably, "The Australian Book of the Australian Ministry."

"Aaah..."

* * *

Hermione's parents lived in a pleasant, suburban house near the Australian outback. They were reluctant to invite three unknown people to their home at first, but Hermione persuaded them to listen to her. Ron, saying that the reunion would be touchy and emotional, stayed out on the porch. Harry decided to keep him company.

When the door swung shut behind a teary Hermione and her confused parents, Harry sat down on one of the chairs in the patio set. Ron pulled up a seat beside him, resting his legs on top of the table. A second later, seeming to think better of it, he lowered his feet.

He turned to Harry, "You don't seem nervous."

"Should I be?"

Ron looked sheepish, "I suppose it's different when you're not actually dating the girl."

Harry suppressed a grin, "Is that why you're nervous?"

Ron rubbed the back of his neck, his ears turning red, and said "These are her _parents_! And she wants us to have _dinner_ with them!"

Harry shrugged, "I don't feel nervous around your parents, and I _live_ with them."

Ron looked puzzled, "Why would you –? Oh, right. Ginny."

There was a small uncomfortable silence in which the two of them determinedly avoided each other's gaze. Then Ron cleared his throat and enquired, "How are things? I mean, between you and Ginny?"

Harry swallowed, "Things are... great."

Ron narrowed his eyes, "Do you miss her?"

"Everyday."

Ron nodded thoughtfully, "And how are things... physically?"

Feeling as if this was some sort of a test, and hoping to Merlin that his face didn't look as guilty as he felt, Harry said, in a somewhat choked voice, "Er. They're fine."

Ron raised his eyebrows, "Fine as in 'we've decided to wait until marriage', or fine as in 'that ship has already sailed'?"

Harry tried to look nonchalant, "Do you _really_ want to know?"

Ron looked stunned for a second, then he shook his head disgustedly, "Never mind."

A brief, painful silence later, Harry – wanting to distract Ron from potentially dangerous thoughts – asked, "What about you and Hermione?"

Ron's voice almost cracked as he said, "There's nothing to say."

Harry raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Ron grimaced and said through gritted teeth, "Our ship hasn't sailed yet. We're taking things _slow_."

Harry couldn't find any words of solace to comfort Ron.

* * *


	19. Australia, pt 2

Australia, Part 2

Hermione exited her parent's house, wiping tears, the cat Crookshanks in her arms. As soon as Crookshanks spotted Harry and Ron, he jumped from her arms, running to Harry first, who leaned down to scratch the cat's ears. With a playful scratch at Harry's hand Crookshanks moved on from him to Ron, jumping on the redhead's lap and settling down with a satisfied purr; Ron seemed surprised, but pleased. She surveyed the scene on the porch with affection; she'd missed Crookshanks terribly. He represented a part of her childhood, when things were much simpler.

Harry stood up, pushing the chair away from the table. "How did it go?" he asked his expression apprehensive. Ron looked up from scratching Crookshanks' ears and said, "Yeah. What did they say, Hermione?"

Hermione smiled through her tears, "I've lifted the Memory Modification Charm... And, I've told them everything." She met their surprised gazes, "Well, not _everything. _But I thought the least I could do was explain the reason behind what we did." She bit her lip, worried, "You don't mind do you?" She addressed Harry more than Ron.

Harry shook his head, "Of course not." He thought for a second, "You – uh – you left out the _finer_ points of last year didn't you?" She glared at him shrewdly. "Well..." he shrugged, apologetic. "What do you want to do now? Are they coming back to Britain?"

"Yes, but it'll take them some time to pack everything up and resign from their jobs here so... um... They want us to stay here for a couple of days."

Ron stood up, cradling Crookshanks in the crook of his elbow and forearm; he put his other arm around her. She leaned into his embrace and he pressed a kiss to her temple.

"How long do they want us to stay?" Ron asked.

"As long as we'd like... I want to get back early though; we really are falling behind on our N.E.W.Ts –"

Ron laughed, squeezing her shoulder, "I can't believe you're worrying about N.E.W.T.S. Kingsley nearly served up that job at the Department for the Control of Magical Creatures on a silver platter."

"It's the Department for _the Regulation_ and Control of Magical Creatures, Ron. And he specifically pointed out that he wouldn't be biased just because we defeated Voldemort!"

Ron turned up his nose, looking offended, "I'll have you know that I find that 'just' in your comment utterly _unjust_. We spent the better part of last year busting our arses off, trying to defeat Voldemort and you say we _just _defeated him. _Just_! "

Hermione rolled her eyes, turning to Harry. "What do you think?"

Harry shrugged, "We can stay as long as you like. After last year I'm more than willing to hand over the decisions to someone else."

Ron set Crookshanks down on the ground. "That's settled then."

* * *

Ron looked around the formal living room. There were two sofas, an armchair, an easy chair, and an ottoman. The walls were painted a light shade, somewhere between yellow and beige, and he realised that every detail in the room was carefully placed; as he looked around, he realised there was a colour scheme. The yellow/beige of the walls kept resurfacing in the fabric of the furniture, the dark ebony of the sofas was mirrored in the curtains, and a subtle shade of red was strewn around the room; in the flowers, the afghans covering the sofas, the decorations. The effect was... nice. He drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, suddenly nervous as he looked at the big black box in the corner of the room. Harry had said it was a telly. Ron didn't know what a telly was... He glanced nervously at the thing called a remote. Harry said it controlled the telly, a wand of sorts. Ron shot a fleeting look at Harry – who was seated on the loveseat in front of the French windows and looked quite comfortable – and realised that Harry was holding back snickers.

"S'not my fault," Ron muttered darkly, "I've never seen a telly before."

"Want me to show you how it works?"

"You know how to work the thing?"

Harry nodded, "'Course. Muggle kids can't live without the telly."

"You're not muggle though."

"I thought I was, until Hagrid kindly informed me otherwise."

Ron grinned, "Right. He broke down your door, gave your cousin a pig's tail, and you a birthday cake he sat on. So sorry I missed it. Go on then. Show me how it works." He inclined his head at the telly.

And Harry launched into an explanation of 'channels' and 'television programs' and the concept of 'cable'. In some ways the telly was a muggle version of the wizarding picture, with sound, and apparently it could show different people doing different things. No longer apprehensive about the telly, Ron picked up the remote. He pressed the red 'power' button at Harry's urging. Instanly, an image of a woman talking rather fast appeared on the 'screen' of the telly. Letters, constantly moving across the bottom of the screen announced the capture of a known robber and the night's scores for a sport called 'basketball'. Realising this must be the News channel, Ron flipped through the other channels, using the grey button with an up arrow. He came to a stop at a channel where a man was trying to fly a kite; laughter from nowhere, it seemed, accompanied him as he repeatedly tripped over the string.

"That's a sitcom." Harry provided.

"Sitcom? What kind of a word is that?"

"It's a compound of the words situation and comedy. Sitcom."

"Right. Because _that_ makes sense." Ron muttered sarcastically. He didn't see Harry roll his eyes in response. Just then Hermione came through the French doors that seperated the kitchen from the formal living room, wiping her hands on the apron around her waist.

"The barbecue is ready. If you need a wash, there's a bathroom on the other side of the foyer." She said.

Ron stood up. "What's a barbecue?" He asked, his curiosity of muggle inventions peaking. Hermione smiled, "You'll see. Come on, Harry!" She held out a hand to Ron, who took it and squeezed her fingers.

They headed down to the enclosed yard at the back of the house. On the deck was a strange looking... something. Entirely silver, it had a grill underneath it's hood. Underneath the grill was a fire coming from something Hermione called a 'propane tank'. Ron neither knew, or cared what a propane tank was. But the smell of the 'barbecued' steak was nothing less than mouthwatering. He helped Mrs. Granger set the table and set a plate of steak that Mr. Granger handed him on the table. Suddenly ravenous, he ushered everyone into a chair and attacked the steak.

* * *

After dinner, everyone retreated to the family room. There was another telly here, smaller than the one in the living room. Harry and Hermione's parents settled into separate armchairs, while he and Hermione sat on the small daybed. Hermione's dad turned the telly on to the news channel, and he and Harry launched into a conversation about the current post-war state of wizarding Britain. Mrs. Granger took up her knitting and Ron leaned back against the chair, an arm around Hermione's shoulder, sending a covert look at her mother.

Hermione leaned up to whisper in his ear, "It's okay. I've told them. They're fine with it."

"Are you sure? I thought your dad was giving me these looks all through dinner."

"Rubbish." She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering there a second longer than necessary. Ron thought he saw Mrs. Granger send a knowing look in their direction.

Two extremely awkward hours later, for Ron at least, Mr. Granger stood up.

"Well," he said, his deep, rumbling voice sending vibrations through the room. "I think it's time for us to retire to bed." Mrs. Granger stood up too, setting her knitting down on the easy chair. "Come on, dears. I'll show you to your rooms."

They followed Hermione's mum up a flight of stairs into a narrow hallway that led to a rectangular landing that led to three bedrooms. A large master suite, undoubtedly where Hermione's parents slept; a mid-sized bedroom, it was beautifully furnished with everything in the room either a creamy white or a pale lavender; the third bedroom was what looked like an office, it had a small fourposter bed, lots of shelving and filing cabinets, a sofa, and a desk on which there was a sleek, curious looking... machine.

"That's a computer." Hermione whispered, evidently she'd noticed what Ron was staring at. He didn't have time to ask what a computer was before Mrs. Granger spoke to them.

"Alright, dears. Hermione can take the guest room, and would you two mind terribly sharing the den? There is a sofa bed and a fourposter, so you boys should be comfortable."

"Of course we don't mind, Mrs. Granger." Harry said.

Ron nodded at her, "Yeah. We don't mind."

Mrs. Granger looked satisfied, "Yes, well. There's a loo just there," She pointed to the left of the lavender bedroom. "And you three can sleep as long as you like." She kissed Hermione on the cheek, hugged both Harry and Ron and - wiping tears – retreated to the bedroom she shared with Mr. Granger. There was a silence. And then Hermione kissed Ron swiftly on the mouth, hugged Harry, picked up her travel bag, and disappeared into the loo.

"Well..." Harry rubbed the back of his head.

"Yeah. Awkward, eh?"

Harry laughed and clapped Ron on the back, "I'm beat. Let's get some sleep, mate."

They settled into the room, pulling on their pyjamas, and reposing on their beds. Ron took the sofa while Harry took the fourposter.

"Er. Ron? I think you're supposed to pull out the sofa bed."

"Yeah? How exactly do you suppose I do that? And what is a sofa bed?"

Harry sighed, lifting himself from the bed. "Here, get up." Ron stood up and crossed to the other side of the room. He watched as Harry pulled out the bottom of the sofa and it turned into a bed.

"Cheers, mate."

Harry grunted. Ron grabbed some blankets from the closet and settled down in the _sofa bed_ for a wait. Sofa bed. The things muggles came up with...

* * *

Ron waited until he heard Harry's snores. Then he quietly slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He stood outside Hermione's door, hesitating for a moment before opening the door. He realised, once he'd opened the door, that the lamp on the bedside table was lighted. He watched her sleep for a while, her chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm, her chestnut hair fanned out around her head like the halo of an angel. He sighed; he'd been hoping to talk to her, they'd barely had time alone today. He reached out and turned the lamp off... and the room plunged into darkness.

He realised his mistake then because Hermione sat up, gasping and clutching the blankets to her chest. She looked around frantically in the darkness, fumbling for the light switch of the lamp, and Ron reached out to touch her arm.

"S'ok 'Mione. It's only me." He reassured her. He switched the lamp on again.

"Oh! Ron! You scared me." She gasped. He notcied that her breathing was irregular.

He realised that she was wearing a white nightgown that did nothing to hide her soft curves. Trying not to stare he muttered, "Sorry... All I did was turn the lamp off."

Hermione blushed, "Oh, yes. I must've have... fallen asleep, I was reading." She gestured to the book beside her on the bed.

Something about her expression told him otherwise. "Oh, yeah? Then why do you look so guilty?"

"I don't look guilty!" Even as she said it Ron could see her resolve melting.

"C'mon, Hermione. You wouldn't be keeping secrets from me would you?"

"It's not a secret, Ronald! You're being overly dramatic, that's all!"

Ron glared at her shrewdly.

"I was reading, Ron. Honestly!"

He continued to glare at her. He knew her expressions better than to believe her so easily right now.

"Oh, alright! After... well, what happened... I havent been able to sleep properly without a light on. I keep seeing... things." She whispered grudgingly, her voice fading till he had to strain his ears to hear her, even from such a close distance. Again, Ron wondered the nature of the things she'd seen in the few weeks he had not been with her last year. He sat down on the edge of her bed, pulling her small frame into his hard chest with confident arms. He was glad that she'd gained back the weight she'd lost last year (he credited the improvement solely on his mother's cooking); her skin had regained its healthy glow and she looked much more well rested these days. She sighed into his chest, snuggling closer to him, with the result that she now looked even more tiny compared to him. He kissed her forehead, resting his cheek against her wild hair, basking in her scent... _Beautiful. _

"Do you want me to stay with you?" He asked quietly. Ron knew there was no question of them staying on the queen-sized bed together, not with her parents less than 15 feet away. But he could sleep on the floor and still be a comfort to her.

"Mum and Dad..." She looked up into his face uncertainly.

"I'll be on the floor. Just hand me some blankets and a pillow."

She bit her lip, clearly weighing the chances. "Alright," She whispered. "But you'll have to go back before –"

"Oh, Hermione. You give me so little credit. Haven't we done this frequently at the Burrow?"

"Not without your brothers and Harry catching us!" She whispered back, scandalised.

Ron grinned, "They won't tell."

She sighed exasperatedly, then giggled when he winked at her. "Alright, then." She pulled some blankets and sheets out from the closet and set them on the floor, throwing two pillows down on top of them. He waited for her to turn the bundle of cloth into something he could sleep on.

She stared at him incredulously, "You can make your own bed, Ronald!" She hissed.

He found that he actually liked it when she called him Ronald. Sighing, he got to work.


	20. The Room

The Room

Ginny was walking her friend to her class on the first floor when, out of nowhere, her book bag split open, sending all of its contents scattering out onto the floor.

"That was... odd." She said, turning to her friend.

Her friend shrugged and bent to help pick up her books. Ginny shook her head, "No, no. It's ok. You have class."

"Are you sure, Ginny?"

"Yeah... Go on."

Ginny bent down to examine the bag. It had split evenly along the seams; a clean, unnatural break. Ginny looked around the hall to find someone who could've sent a 'Diffindo' her way. She sighed and pulled out her wand, "Peeves!" she yelled, her tone exasperated. "I swear if it's you, I'll hex you into –"

"Ginny. It's me."

Her heart seemed to jump to her throat. She looked around; searching for the voice she thought she wouldn't hear in quite some time. There was no one in the hallway. Suddenly a head appeared, seemingly floating in thin air about ten feet in front of her. "Harry!" she yelped, grinning madly. She ran to him, stopping so that there was an inch of space between her and his head. She raised her hand, tentatively touching the air below his floating head. She was met with resistance in the form of Harry's chest. Harry grinned, wrapping his hands around her waist. Ginny looked down at her midriff, which had now disappeared. A giggle rose in her throat at the hilarity of the situation. Harry smiled at her amusement.

"Hey." He whispered. Ginny kissed him. "I suppose that was you?" she asked, inclining her head towards her book bag. Harry nodded guiltily. "I had to get your attention somehow."

"And a simple 'Hello' wouldn't have sufficed?"

He laughed, "For me? No. As Hermione says, I have to complicate something seemingly uncomplicated. That and I don't want anyone to know that I'm here... Come on." He took her by the hand and walked down the corridor, on the way picking up her bag, repairing it and stuffing her books back in. He handed it to her. As she took it her hand brushed his with the tiniest amount of flesh imaginable. The simple touch, if one can even call it that, sent shivers down Ginny's spine. He took her hand. Ginny looked down at the connection of their hands; there was nothing there.

"Why don't you take off the Cloak?" She asked.

"I can't..." He pulled the cloak over his head so that his head was covered too. Now it looked like she was walking alone, except for the fact that her hand (from wrist-down) was invisible because he was holding it.

"No one knows I'm here." Harry said.

"Who let you in, then?" she asked.

"Well... McGonagall knows, and Luna knows... and Neville..."

"And you couldn't tell _me_ because...?" She gestured wildly with her free hand to illustrate her question.

"I wanted it to be a surprise."

Ginny smiled affectionately at him, hoping that he wasn't looking away. She couldn't have possibly known that Harry was finding it tremendously difficult to look at anything but her. She was wearing the uniform: skirt, dress shirt, and tie. Her shirt was untucked; her tie loosely around her neck and her skirt reached a bit above her knees. On top she was wearing a green sweater. Her hair flowed down her back in a messy, but endearing, waterfall of titian red. Harry was feeling unusually aggrieved towards her hair because it obstructed his otherwise perfect view of Ginny's _ass_ets.

"I was thinking we could go to the Room of Requirement." Harry proposed, observing the differences in their hands. He ran his fingers over her small knuckles. Her hand looked to be made of the milkiest porcelain white, miniature compared to his own large hands.

"Sounds good." She led they way and he followed her without thinking, his mind blissfully clouded with thoughts of what they might do _alone_.

He let go of her hand as they approached the marble staircase. There were too many staff and students around not to notice Ginny's 'missing' hand. They climbed the seven flights of stairs to the Room of Requirement in silence. Ginny passed some of her friends on the way, when asked where she was going Ginny replied that she was going to the library to study for a test.

Ginny walked slowly, making sure not to lose Harry in the crowd of students. When they reached the seventh floor corridor Ginny looked to see if there was anyone around. She reached out to touch Harry, and felt a brief wave of panic when she couldn't feel him next to her. She felt around the air, whispering his name. She didn't dare say 'Harry' too loud in case someone burst in on them. Then she heard a whispered "I'm here', her hand bumped into something soft and silky and she smiled, reassured.

Once inside the Room of Requirement, Ginny locked the door, putting Silencing Charms on the door and walls. She felt Harry wrap his arms around her from behind, pulling her back flush with his chest. He trailed kisses along her neck, pulling her hair to one side so he could better access her shoulder.

"Merlin," she gasped as he bit down on the junction of her neck and shoulder, sucking it blue. "You don't waste time, do you?"

"If we had time to waste, I'd waste an eternity with you." His lips trailed across her silky skin; it was all Harry could do to not take her then and there.

Ginny giggled, muttering "slick" under her breath. She turned in the circle of his arms, facing him. His lips immediately fell on hers. She pushed him away, pretending for the moment that she was able to do so because of her strength, and not because he simply let her; Merlin knows he could break both her wrists with just a flick of his. He huffed grumpily and sat down on the couch, his broad frame taking over half of the sofa. She sat beside him, her hand on his knee, one of his big tanned hands covering hers. His other arm went around her, pulling her close. He looked average next to a beanstalk like Ron, but once again he marvelled at how _big_ he was compared to her.

"We have time," Ginny whispered. "This is the last class of the day, and it's my free period... Are you hungry?" She'd learned a thing or two about the kitchens in her time here. She kept her thoughts stubbornly from Fred and George.

"Yeah... For you." Harry replied, stroking her knuckles with his fingers.

She closed the miniscule gap between them, unable to stop a laugh from escaping from her mouth and into his. When the overpowering need to be as close to him as humanely possible had subsided somewhat, Ginny pulled away, draped her legs over his, and curled into his chest.

"How are you?" he asked, his voice husky.

"I miss you." She replied, tracing circles on his knees. "A lot. And I thought it'd be nice being the only Weasley around for miles, but I miss not having an annoying, self-centered, over-protective brother around. "

Harry laughed throatily, "I'll be sure to pass that bit on." He tilted her face up to his, kissing her cheeks and nose before settling his lips on hers. She sighed into his mouth, content with the position. He held her face between his hands, freezing the kiss, their lips barely touching. She pulled away after a moment to look around the room.

It was washed with red and gold. Three different, feather-soft, couches lined the walls; the couch they were currently reposing on was in front of the fireplace. Throw rugs of assorted colours were strewn around the room, waiting to be used as blankets to curl up under. The fire danced merrily in the grate, flicking ash on the carpet around the fireplace. A banner with the Gryffindor crest adorned the mantle. Tapestries hung in swaths of red and gold on the walls, exquisitely decorated lions stitched onto them. Harry's Invisibility Cloak lay on top of the back of the couch, turning half of it invisible. The Room had turned itself into a smaller version of the Gryffindor common room. A sense of nostalgia washed over Ginny. The days they'd spent in the Gryffindor Common Room in her fifth year were among the happiest ever.

"I forgot to tell you," Harry said, "I got a job."

"Really!" She yelped in surprise. "Where?"

"Quality Quidditch Supplies." Said, Harry looking proud. "Their last sales clerk had a nervous breakdown or something..."

Ginny hugged him, "That's great!" Her dormant, but omnipresent, mother-like tendencies took over, "I hope you're not working too hard. What with the N.E.W.T.S and –"

Harry pressed a kiss to her lips, stopping her flow of motherly concerns. He murmured, "Thought you were channelling your mum for a second there."

They laughed; her voice a soprano and his, bass.

"Speaking of Quality Quidditch Supplies..." He asked. "If you could have anything in the world, Ginny, what would you have?"

Ginny didn't see where Quidditch supplies fit into this topic of conversation, but she went along with it. She answered his question with something that would've been obvious to anyone except Harry, "You."

He shook his head, a smile pulling at his lips. "Something you don't already have."

"Hmm..." She sighed, "How about... a cake! Yes! A big chocolate gateau, as tall as me, and twice as wide. With the world's biggest strawberry on top... And rose petals sprinkled around it!" She looked into the fire, her brown eyes sparkling, her mind obviously thinking of the things one could do with such a cake.

He laughed, "Alright. I'll get working on that... Merlin knows, I think I've got enough money for all that you ask. But, in the meantime, will this do?"

He produced a purse from inside his robes and handed it to her.

"But, this is Hermione's purse. The one she took to Bill's wedding... the one where she kept _everything._"

He nodded, "Go on. Look inside!"

She frowned at him, "I _told_ you not to..."

"Just open it, Gin."

She unzipped the beaded purse, rummaged inside for a moment, then gasped as a sleek new broomstick emerged from the little purse.

"Oh... glory!" She breathed, running her hands over the glossy handle of the broom. "A Firefly..." He heard the longing in her voice. She shook her head, "I can't... I can't take this, Harry." She held the broomstick out to him. "Return it."

Feeling a little case of déjà vu, he threatened, "If you give it back to me, I'll just owl it to you. And then all of Hogwarts will see and you'll have to keep it anyways. I'll even send you a howler that declares who it comes from so everyone knows."

She narrowed her eyes, "You wouldn't _dare_." At that moment her voice sounded so dangerous that he wondered if he should fear for his life.

"Watch me." He said, feeling reckless and a little sorry for his godson. How scarred would Teddy Lupin be if he heard that his godfather was brutally bat-bogey hexed by his overly emotional girlfriend?

Something in his eyes must have told her that he would do it.

"Alright, _fine_." She said, her expression sour. "But I'm angry with you."

He turned away, "You know you love me."

She muttered something under her breath.

Harry pulled her tighter to his chest, plucking the broomstick from her hands and setting it on the floor. "You know why I buy you things, Gin. And it's for an entirely selfish reason."

"And what, pray tell, would this entirely selfish reason be?" She asked.

He lowered his mouth to her ear, giving the shell of her ear a little flick with his tongue before whispering, "I don't buy you gifts just because _you_ like them (which I know you do, no matter what you say), I buy you things, Ginny, because it makes _me _happy to see you wearing them, using them... So you see, I'm just extremely selfish. It makes me happy to see you happy... And I want to do whatever I can... to make up for last year."

She hadn't spoken while he gave his little speech, all the more unusual was that she had not even tried to interrupt. Now, she looked down at her lap, her chin wobbling slightly. "There's nothing to make up for." She whispered, "You've done so much already... I know that you helped Fred and George start their shop... you bought all those things for mum and dad... and you won't allow Ron to pay the rent for your flat... this family's done nothing for you."

Harry supposed his voice was a bit harsh when he said, "This family's given me things that my blood-relations haven't given me. I consider that more than enough. More than I should have claim to."

She flinched visibly at his words, "But you defeated –"

"Drop it, Ginny."

She sighed, recognising the burning determination to make her understand in his eyes.

To change the subject, she asked, "How is Teddy?" She craned her head to look at him.

Harry forced his thoughts away from the things he still owed to his surrogate family... A smile broke out on his face at the mention of his godson, "He's a great kid. I've been familiarizing him with everyone these last few weeks. He doesn't even have a problem with Hagrid... Only thing is, he doesn't seem to like snow much..."

Ginny laughed, "Tonks doesn't either." She realised what she'd said a second after she'd said it. Her eyes widened as she looked at Harry. "Didn't. She didn't... I –" she started to say.

He shook his head. He sat up, removing his arms from around her, facing away. "It's ok."

She sat up, her back unnaturally straight, as she always did when she was trying to hide her true emotions. A minute of stillness passed, digging a void into Ginny that left her breathless, as if she was physically wounded; it took all her restraint to hold back the tears that so readily fell from her eyes these days. Then Harry said, his voice a quiet break in the silence, "I've been having the – _dreams_ again. The one where everyone," his breath hitched, "_Everyone_. Dies..." There was a quiet, floundering despair in his voice.

Ginny put a soothing hand on his shoulder, rubbing her other hand down the tense muscles of his back. She was desperate to comfort him; they were seeing each other after two months and she'd missed him terribly. "_Harry_... Harry, they're just dreams, you know they're not real."

Harry sighed, rubbing his face with his hands, "Yeah. Just dreams. Just dreams." He sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

Ginny draped herself over his shoulders, pulling his face to the side to meet hers. She kissed the corner of his mouth. His skin burned where her lips touched him. He turned his head away from hers. Ginny pulled back, feeling as if he'd slapped her.

A moment of silence later she said in a quiet voice, "They're making Chocolate Frog cards for you, Ron, and Hermione." It was a wild attempt to make him smile. Harry stayed quiet. Then he seemed to decide that it wasn't worth ruining the night. So he turned, pulling her close again, kissing her. There was a smile on his face when she pulled back. He didn't acknowledge their previous conversation; she decided not to either.

"Yeah... Chocolate Frog Cards... George told me. They're coming out next week. Ron says it'll be his finest hour when they present us with the original ones. Mad, eh?"

"Not really, Ron can be so _vain_." She replied indifferently, pulling him closer to her. "I'm glad they're making the cards. I think I'd like having a miniature Harry around..."

Harry grinned, "Too bad I can't have a miniature Ginny."

"I will always be in you heart!" she said, jabbing him in the chest with her finger.

"Ever the theatrical one." Harry mused.

"Hey, _you're_ not the one whose dorm mates went and got a big poster of Harry Potter charmed to say 'Desirable Number One'!"

"Don't pretend you don't like it."

"Yes, because I really like my boyfriend watching me undress. And your picture smirks too!"

Harry muttered, "Your boyfriend happens to like watching you undress. Besides, it's nothing _I_ haven't seen before."

Ginny huffed, such an ego! "Once, Harry! We've only done that _once_!"

He laughed. "It's a sad day when I envy a poster..." He muttered under his breath. Ginny appeared not to have heard.

"So, Harry. Have you received any more marriage proposals yet?"

"A couple," Harry said, nodding impressively. "But none that I have seriously considered."

Ginny smiled apologetically at him, "Sorry, Errol's a bit slow."

Harry's throaty laugh was cut short when he realised the full meaning of her words.

Before he could comment on what she said, she pulled his head down to kiss him, but he pushed her away. "Hang on..."

Ginny huffed irritably, "Now what?"

"You're wearing my sweater!" He accused.

And she was. She'd found it one day at the Burrow, when bringing food up to the ghoul in Ron's room. It was forest green with a large golden snitch in the front and a gold H in the back. It was the customary Weasley sweater Mrs. Weasley had given Harry in his sixth year.

"You have very acute observational skills."

Harry grimaced at her sarcasm, "I was wondering where that got off to."

"It didn't 'get off' anywhere. You left it at the Burrow, I was in need of a new sweater, and I thought it'd be a shame to leave such a beautiful sweater just lying there... so I took it."

"Can I have it back?"

"No."

"But it's mine."

"It was. Now it's mine."

"But it doesn't even fit you. It's two sizes too big. And it's got an H on the back. Your name doesn't even start with an H...! You can have one of the others; I've got the one your mum gave me fifth year."

He gave her a winning smile, silently pleading. His smile was endearing, to say the least. Ginny was tempted to hand the sweater back immediately. But then again, Ginny had always been able to resist temptation.

"I don't want that. I like this. The green goes wonderfully with my hair."

"But –"

Ginny shook her head. For the next ten minutes Harry proceeded to cajole her to give the sweater back. Finally she said, "Harry, listen, Mum's going to make you one this Christmas anyways, so you wear that, and I'll wear this."

"But I like this one best." Harry pouted. She held back a giggle.

"So?"

"_So?_ So, I want – never mind. Keep it."

"Thank you." She kissed him full on the lips, pressing her chest into his, her arms around his neck. She pulled away and laid her head on his chest, content that she'd left him sufficiently flustered, and listened to his irregular heartbeat.

Harry groaned when she stroked his collarbone softly, "Does this mean we can do _things_ now?" He asked.

"Productive things? Like reading that book I should have started reading a week ago?" Ginny questioned back, teasing him. She knew precisely what sort of 'things' he wanted to do...

"Is your definition of 'productive' the same as mine?" he asked, his breathing shallow and his voice guttural.

"Perhaps." She smiled seductively.

"Would you care to find out...?" It was hard to contain the _need_ he felt for her.

He positioned her so that he was on top. He took most of his weight on his elbow, making sure not to crush her, as he kissed and bit his way down her neck and shoulder, unbuttoning her shirt along the way.

"Ginny... Ginny..." he moaned as her hands slipped under his robes, fumbling with the buttons of his shirt. "_Ginny,_ please!"

She pushed him away, her small hands firm on the muscles of his chest. He leant back against the back of the couch, running his hand through his hair, looking dazed.

She stared at his toned chest, taking in the muscles, rippling as he breathed heavily, and his numerous scars. "Please, what?" she asked in a sultry voice, tracing the oval scar on his chest that he refused to tell her about.

His tone was accusatory, he growled, "You_ know_ what!"

She did know... proof of what he wanted was pressing into her thigh. She just didn't know if she wanted to do anything about it. But then, looking into his eyes, dark green with lust, and the earnest look on his face she made a split second decision. She unbuttoned her shirt the rest of the way, pushed it off her shoulders and dropped it on the floor.

Immediately Harry pulled her closer to himself. "Ginny," He breathed, "You are the most beautiful thing I have _ever_ seen."

Ginny rolled her eyes, "Harry, you're full of such _talk_ today."

"For you, Gin, I'd talk Mermish."

She laughed, and he flipped them over, carefully laying her on top of him. She stroked his shoulder, murmuring, "They _do_ sound horrible above ground, don't they?"

"Well then, it's a good thing I'm drowning in the ocean that is my love for you." His hand twitched towards the clasp of her bra, then stopped. Ginny had sat up. Her hips were digging into Harry's pelvic bone and he barely managed to hold back a groan.

"What?" She said, infuriated. "Did Ron buy you another _How to Charm Witches_ book again? Or did you actually sit down and make these up?"

"Read the book," Harry replied with a shrug of his shoulders, "The Mermish thing was all my idea though." He pulled her down again; his hand began working on the bra clasp.

Ginny sighed, "You know I don't like you sweet talking me!" She, in turn, undid his belt and worked the belt out of the loops in his jeans, fiddling with the zipper.

"I know... fun, isn't it?" He said. Ginny noticed that his eyes held some sort of a glint of mischief redolent of Fred and George.

She glared at him, "Shut up or I'll have to tie you down."

"That sounds fun."

In spite of herself, Ginny felt herself colour at his comment. She scowled, "Do you want this or not?"

"More than anything." He grinned at her, then let his hands fall from around her back. He had finally succeeded in unclasping her bra. She gasped in surprise as her brassiere fell to the floor, fumbling to cover herself up. He took her wrists in his hand, effectively stopping her from covering herself; he kissed her palms and wrists. She blushed prettily as his gaze fell below her shoulders. He pulled her close, her naked chest brushing against his own naked one, and he devoured her lips with his; his hands left her waist to wander north of her hips.

"Mmm..." She moaned, her lower lip trembling, her whole body shuddering with pleasure. "I think we might need a bed..."

In between his own moans, he managed to whisper back, "This _is_ the Room of Requirement."

* * *

Afterwards, as she lay curled against his chest, wearing his t-shirt, her crimson hair fanning out over the pillow, he thought of how much she meant to him. He turned on his side to see her face better. She stirred in his arms but didn't wake. He watched her heart-shaped face; her small, upturned nose; her high cheekbones; her perfectly arched eyebrows; the scattered freckles across the bridge of her nose; and her lips... Sweet Merlin, those lips! Her stubbornness, her willingness to go to the ends of the earth for the people she loved, her sarcasm, her love of Quidditch... every aspect of her meant everything to him. She stirred again, burrowing closer to him and he relished the feel of her petite body against his. He ran his hands down her lithe body, down the curved small of her back, the tight muscles of her legs; she shivered. He marvelled at how _strong_, physically and emotionally, she was; especially for such a small person. He watched her hair, the flickering light from the fireplace sending dark red shadows and glittering gold highlights through her hair. He clutched her tighter to himself, breathing in her flowery fragrance, immersing himself totally in the aroma of _Ginny_.

Then, into the half-light he whispered, his voice rough with emotion, "I love you, Ginny. More than words."


	21. Christmas at the Burrow

Christmas at the Burrow

Christmas brought a flurry of activity to the unusually empty Burrow. Mrs. Weasley, unaccustomed to the absence of the constant coming and going of Order members, was glad to have people to cook for. A few days before Ginny came home for winter break (bringing the rest of the family with her) Mrs. Weasley started cooking, bent on providing the best of meals everyday her family was here.

George, who had long since got out of the habit of staying in the Burrow for weekends, moved back in (just for the holidays). He made the daily commute, Apparating to his shop in the mornings and Apparating back in the evenings, sometimes quite late. When Mrs. Weasley inquired as to why he was late almost every night, he answered that he had been 'out with a friend.' And so, she gleaned that George had resumed dating. And from his brothers she learned that it was a different witch every time! Now, she couldn't pretend that it was healthy for him to date a different girl every week, but he seemed genuinely happy, or at least, content with the way things were. Of course she dropped heavy hints that she didn't approve of his recent lifestyle but he laughed them off. In time she learned not to say anything, for it seemed that her advice would not be heeded.

"Georgie?" she asked the day before Ginny was due to come home, "Are you going to King's Cross to pick up Ginny?"

He swallowed his mouthful of lunch, "Dunno. Harry's going to pick her up, isn't he?"

"I think you and your brothers should all go." She looked at her sons and her only daughter-in-law, who were all staying at the Burrow for Christmas break. "She seemed really down in the last letter she sent."

"Mhhmmmff…" George swallowed again, "Yeah. Alright. I'll go over to Harry's." He deposited his dishes in the sink, kissed his mum on the cheek and started to walk towards his bedroom; he had some experiments to do. However, he caught his mother's stern eye and sighed, "Now?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"Alright." George consented. He grabbed his coat and scarf from the hook next to the kitchen door. Just before Apparating he addressed his brothers, who were still gorging on the delicious lunch, "You lot better be there soon, the Express'll be at King's Cross in a few hours."

George apparated just inside Ron and Harry's flat, which Ron had ceremoniously dubbed 'The Bachelor Pad'. He was instantaneously sorry as he found a shirtless Ron and a flustered Hermione in a compromisin_g _position. He slapped a palm to his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

"Oi! You two!"

In the second that followed he couldn't tell if the shrill girlish scream belonged to Hermione or Ron. George kept his eyes shut, feeling his way around the flat and into the kitchen. He grabbed a bottle of mead from the pantry and downed half a bottle in one gulp, hoping it would erase at least some of what he had seen. Shuddering at the thought, he looked around the kitchen, it was more tidy than usual, a result of Hermione's touch. At least the omnipresent mountain of unwashed dishes weren't in the sink. He took another two bottles of mead and two glasses, picking his way back into the living room. Hermione was sitting primly at the edge of the big sofa, her cheeks a violent shade of pink. Ron was lounging on the armchair, his ears a Weasley red. George rolled his eyes at their obvious attempt to pretend like nothing happened. He silently offered Ron a bottle of mead and poured out half a glass for Hermione, who blushed when their eyes met.

"Mum says we should all go to pick Ginny up from King's Cross."

"What!" Ron yelped, "Why? Harry's going, isn't he?"

"Mum reckons she sounded depressed in her last letter." George took another gulp of his mead. Ron sounded like he _really _didn't want to go… Looking sideways at Hermione, George could only guess at why.

"Well, there is that…" Ron mused. He turned to Hermione then back to George, "Who falls under the heading 'all'?"

"The entire Weasley clan, and you Hermione." George replied, inclining his head slightly towards the bushy-haired witch. "Personally, I don't think _everyone_ needs to go."

"I told you." Hermione countered, "Ginny's not feeling so good right now. I think Mrs. Weasley's right, George. Think about it, she's stuck in Hogwarts where she barely hears from us once a week, while we see each other most everyday. She must feel so distanced from us."

"Yeah, alright. So, where's Harry anyways?"

"At work," Ron answered. "He's supposed to go to King's Cross from there."

"I say we wait for the others to get here, pick up Harry from work, and –"

"Hang on, if you're here, and it's my day off…" Ron started, "Who's at the shop?"

"Verity said she could manage, I'll drop in after Ginny gets home."

Hermione asked, "When is everyone getting here?"

"They were just finishing lunch," George said, "So, I should think, in about ten minutes."

* * *

The Weasleys plus Hermione and Harry picked their way through the crowds at King's Cross, each one of them looking for Ginny's head of vibrant red hair. Percy spotted Ginny first, pointing her out to Harry who was beside him. The news made its way down the grapevine of Weasleys until they were all walking towards her.

Harry watched as Ginny struggled to get her trunk out of the train and onto her trolley. He smiled, clearly she'd forgotten that she could do magic outside Hogwarts. His grin disappeared as a tall blonde boy, probably no more than 16, offered to help, and together they got the trunk onto the trolley. Harry's hand clenched around his wand as the boy laughed at something Ginny had said, casually touching her arm. Just then Ginny noticed the crowd of redheads in the platform, a genuine smile broke out on her face and she politely said goodbye to the unknown boy. The blonde watched Ginny walk away intently, his eyes staying below Ginny's swaying midriff.

Harry hurried forward to meet Ginny, who abandoned her trolley halfway through and ran into his arms, kissing him chastely on his cheek. He grinned, and kissed her full on the mouth (only after making sure there were no reporters around). Over the top of Ginny's head, Harry's eyes met the boy's, who scowled and turned away, kicking his trunk in frustration. Harry ducked his head, smiling.

"I've missed you." Ginny murmured into his neck.

"Not as much as I've missed you." Harry whispered back. "Now come on, before the reporters converge on us. They're like vultures on a carcass when it comes to us." He kissed her lips again, glaring pointedly at the blonde boy who was still staring at them.

Ginny laughed, pushing him away, "Stop that! Next thing you know the Prophet will be roaring about 'Potter's Passion'!"

As they pushed the trolley towards the Weasleys, Harry said conversationally, "I don't like the way that bloke looks at you, Gin."

"What bloke?" Ginny asked, surprised.

"The one who helped you with your trunk."

"Dylan? He's the new seeker, now that you're gone. He knows we're just friends, Harry." She rolled her eyes, "Honestly."

"He looks at you like you're a piece of Porterhouse steak."

"As flattered as I am, Harry, I don't think –" She broke off then because they had reached the crowd of Weasleys and her father had enveloped her in a bear-hug. As her mum came forward to hug her, Harry and Ginny's eyes met. She managed to convey the message that their previous conversation was over.

* * *

The next few days passed in a flurry of shopping, Quidditch, and excellent meals. Kreacher (who was now alternately helping at the Burrow or at 'The Bachelor Pad') did all the cleaning, so that Mrs. Weasley had time to cook more complex dishes in increasing amounts. Luna, who occasionally came to visit from her restored house, had found a Humdinger in the Burrow's vegetable patch. It wasn't a Blibbering Humdinger but it was a Humdinger nonetheless, and she spent fifteen minutes rubbing Hermione's ego in it in a typically Luna way. Mr. Weasley's workload was cut in half because it turns out that the miscreants who usually meddled with Muggle artifacts didn't want to ruin the first Christmas after Voldermort's Final Downfall. On the other hand, Kingsley - who frequently showed up for dinner – was hard at work refurbishing the Ministry and its policies. He had spoken to the Weasley's, Harry, Hermione, and Dumbledore's portrait about some new Muggle policies which improved the way Muggles were treated. Within months Kingsley had managed to improve relations between Goblins, Centaurs and wizards, resulting in a very tranquil Christmas for Muggle and wizarding Britain alike.

The day before Christmas Eve dawned bright and cheerful. The sun reflected off the snow making the day seem much brighter and giving anyone who went out a case of temporary snow blindness. Mrs. Weasley had taken the liberty of inviting Andromeda and Teddy over to stay for Christmas break. Harry was glad of it because it meant an increase in the amount of time he got to spend with his godson. After lunch, the Weasley children (Bill, Charlie, Fleur, George, Ron, Hermione, Harry and even Percy) and Luna bundled up in scarves and mittens and headed out to the backyard, ready for a good hard snowball fight. Ginny, however, had to sit out the fun because she had a slight cold and Mrs. Weasley had forbidden her to go near snow for the next two days. She spent the afternoon sitting next to the fireplace, playing with Crookshanks, Arnold the pygmy puff and Teddy (who didn't like snow at all).

Mrs. Weasley called the sodden bunch from the backyard in just before dusk and handed them each a steaming mug of hot chocolate. They settled around the living room, relaxing for a while before Luna's father, Hagrid and Kingsley arrived for dinner.

Harry watched from his seat next to Andromeda on the couch as Ginny lay before the fireplace, Teddy, Crookshanks, and Arnold crawling all over her. She laughed when Teddy sneezed and, as a result of the momentum, fell over. She picked him up then, settling him on her lap. She leaned back against the Bill's legs and pressed a soft kiss to Teddy's forehead. The boy yawned and wrapped his chubby little arms around Ginny's neck, burying his face in her hair. She had a small smile on her face as she gently patted Teddy's back and within minutes the boy was fast asleep.

Harry's mind drifted a long ways from the Burrow, to a cozy living room much like this one. Except in his mind, it was only him and Ginny, and a small red-haired, green-eyed baby.

"She's sweet."

Harry started, shaking himself out of his daydream. He turned to Andromeda, who had spoken. "Sorry?"

"She's sweet." Andromeda repeated, inclining her head slightly towards Ginny and the sleeping Teddy.

Harry smiled down at the old lady, "Yeah, she really is."

"You love her." It wasn't a question.

Harry was surprised by the confidence in Andromeda's voice. "I do." He replied, keeping his voice low.

"And she loves you?"

Harry blushed, "She does."

"What were you thinking of? Just now, while you were watching her and Teddy?"

He considered the answers he could give her_. Nothing, work, Auror training_, all these would be considered appropriate answers. He settled on the truth. "I was thinking of a future… with her."

Andromeda raised her eyebrows, "You plan to marry her someday?"

Harry shrugged, "I'm pretty sure I do. I'm not sure where she stands though."

She smiled, "My dear boy, Molly tells me she's been in love with you since she was five years old. Where do you _think_ she stands?"

Harry shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "It was different when she was five. It's different now. It might be different in the future."

Andromeda folded her hands on her lap, smiling slyly. She looked over at Ginny. "Something tells me differently."

Harry looked at Andromeda. As he studied her face - which looked so much like her sister's - he thought of how much closer they had become since that night when he'd mistaken her for Bellatrix. A booming knock announced Hagrid's arrival, and Harry was glad of the excuse to stop their conversation.

He got up hastily, weaving his way through the clutter in the kitchen and opened the door. As Hagrid moved into the kitchen Kingsley was revealed, his six foot three frame looking distinctly smaller in comparison. Harry grinned, as Hagrid shook his whole arm. Kingsley stepped into the kitchen, brushing snow off his shoulders. They didn't have a chance to re-enter the living room because Mrs. Weasley was already ushering everyone into the kitchen for dinner.

Harry and Ginny ended up next to each other and they kept up a constant flow of conversation under the general chatter of the rest of the people. Harry fidgeted, he wanted to ask Ginny something but he wasn't sure when the right time would be. When Ginny turned away from her conversation with Charlie, Harry decided this was a good as a time as any. He swallowed his chicken and lowered his head to whisper in Ginny's ear, "Gin?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I was wondering if you wanted to go somewhere tomorrow night."

Ginny shifted slightly in her seat to look at him, "Where, love?"

"Uh… Last year, when we were… on the road… Hermione and I went to visit my parent's graves in Godric's Hollow the night of Christmas Eve… I was just wondering if you wanted to go with me tomorrow."

Ginny dropped her fork with a clatter. Everyone stopped their conversations and turned to look at her.

"Are you alright, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ginny blushed, "I'm fine, mum," she murmured, "Really."

Once everyone returned to their respective discussions, Harry whispered to Ginny, "So?"

"So what? Where was Ron when you two went?" She whispered.

Harry was brought up short by the question, "He was… er… sick. So he couldn't go." He lowered his head so he could whisper in Ginny's ear, "Gin, don't feel like you're obligated to go… If you don't want to…"

"Harry!" Ginny whispered in a voice that suggested she was scandalized, "Of course I don't feel that way, I'd love to go!" She smiled at him and squeezed his knee under the table, reassuringly.

Harry relaxed, something in his chest loosened and he enjoyed the dinner more.

* * *

The morning of Christmas Eve Ginny and Hermione announced that they would be heading out to Diagon Alley for some last minute shopping. A disgruntled Harry spent the time before they left (noon) pouting and following Ginny around her room as she tidied the place.

"I thought we were going to Godric's Hollow today?"

Ginny sighed exasperatedly, "For the thousandth time, Harry, we are! I've just got to get some more Christmas presents."

"But –"

"Harry, you were the one who said you wanted to go during the evening! Stop acting like a child." She said, rolling her eyes as she hung her clean laundry in the closet.

"I just wanted to spend the day with you!" Harry stood up from her desk chair, and wrapped his arms around her from behind, nuzzling her neck. "Ginny…" He moaned, bathing in her fragrant smell.

Ginny stroked his cheek, "You said we'll be going in the evening. Harry. And I haven't spent enough time with Hermione this break, I want to make it up to her. And, I really do have some shopping to do; the bargains are delicious this time of year."

She turned in his arms, looking up at his face. "I promise you I'll be back before four. We'll spend some time together, we'll have dinner with the family, and then we'll go. I've been putting off buying gifts for some people long enough. You understand don't you?"

"Of course he does!" Hermione voice came from the open door of Ginny's room. She dumped a load of her clean laundry on the bed, proceeding to fold them with precise flicks of her wand.

Harry rolled his eyes, resting his head on top of Ginny's (who was facing the Hermione too). "Oh sure, never mind that it's Christmas Eve and there's a convenient amount of mistletoe sprigs lying about, you can drag my girlfriend Merlin knows where!"

"Oi!" George yelled, coming up the stairs and into the room. "What makes you think we'll let you get near three feet of mistletoe with her?" He pointed to Ron who was behind him as he said "we".

"What makes you think I'll need your permission?" Harry countered, grinning.

"What makes you think –" George started.

Ginny sighed wistfully, interrupting him. "I adore being fought over, but you three," she pointed to Ron, George and himself, "need to go. Hermione and I need to get ready."

When Harry and Ron opened their mouths to protest she said, "The faster we leave, the faster we come back. Now go!"

She slipped out from Harry's arms and pecked him on the cheek.

"I love you." She whispered, just so he could hear.

He smiled, "Same here, Gin-germ."

She stuck her tongue out at him. Laughing, Harry followed Ron and George down the stairs.

* * *

_Thank you for being patient, lovesies. Sorry about my long absence from the website. I've become a busy busy bee what with university, work, and parties. Summer's coming up and I'll be working half the summer and in Beijing with my boyfriend the other half (watching the Summer Olympics there!). Should be a good summer. I'll try and update every so often, so keep checking in. _

_Hope you enjoyed that. This was more of a filler chapter, hope it wasn't too fluffy for you. The next one will be about their trip to Godric's Hollow and hopefully better. _

_My brother is still sick, but better than before. Thank you to anyone who's asked._

_Reviews, like always, are appreciated. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I love you guys._

_H.A.T.S (have a teriffic summer), don't forget sunscreen, stay hydrated, and stay in the freakin' pool!_

_All my love, _

_Qtip._


	22. Godric's Hollow Once Again

Godric's Hollow Once Again

Harry shuffled his feet nervously as he stood waiting for Ginny at the bottom of the Burrow's stairs. Truth be told, he didn't exactly know why he was nervous. His relationship with Ginny was past the point where he felt anxious around her; it had passed that stage a long time ago. Other than the fact that, technically, Harry was "introducing" Ginny to his parents; he really had no reason to be nervous about tonight. Yet he was, because this was essentially their first date outside of Hogwarts (if Ginny was willing to call it that).

The clacking of heels announced Ginny's arrival and Harry stretched out a hand to help her down the last two steps. She was wearing jeans and a zip up sweater underneath a thick midnight blue traveling robe. As she moved gracefully towards Harry, the robe shimmered; the effect – coupled with her cascade of auburn hair - was quite... stunning.

"You look... wow." Harry said, somewhat lamely. He was finding himself at a loss for words.

Ginny giggled, wrapping her arms around his waist and looking up at him cheekily. "You look 'wow' too, Potter." She said, kissing his cheek. She only ever called him by his surname when she was teasing. She buried her head in his neck and murmured something about his lack of sufficient adjectives.

The corners of Harry's mouth twitched upwards, but he maintained a dignified silence (which only served to amuse Ginny further) as they went into the drawing room to bid goodbye to the family.

Ten minutes or so later, Harry and Ginny set off for the perimeters of the Burrow so they could Apparate. When they'd reached the willow tree just outside the garden gate Ginny said nervously:

"Um... Harry?"

"Yes, Gin?"

"I've never actually apparated before..."

Harry looked down at Ginny in surprise. "Didn't they teach you last year?"

"Uh, no, actually. There was never time... what with – what with one thing or another."

Harry refused to let their memories ruin the mood. "Right, so we'll just... Side-Along, yeah?"

She looked even more apprehensive, "You've got your Apparating license, right?"

"Of course." Harry said, affronted she would ask. "Besides, I've been doing it for months without one." He said with a smile.

She smiled back at him, "Alright."

He pulled her close to him, wrapping his arms protectively around her small form. "Take a deep breath." He whispered in her ear. She hid her face in his chest and followed his instructions. And the next second they had Disapparated with a _crack_.

They Apparated four feet from the war memorial that was really a statue of the Potters. Like the last time he had visited, the town square was deserted, save for a few people walking to the pub. As they passed the statue to get to the graveyard Ginny let out a gasp. Harry had forgotten to tell her about it.

"I was surprised too." Harry murmured. He took her hand.

Ginny stood staring at the statue for a moment more. "Your mum was really pretty. And now I can see why everyone says you look just like your dad..." She giggled, "Merlin, weren't you just the cutest little thing!"

Harry grinned reluctantly, choosing not to comment. He pulled her towards the graveyard.

As they unlatched the kissing-gate to enter the cemetery Ginny inquired, "Harry, do you think we could go to the pub afterwards? I'd like to try a Muggle drink..."

"Sure. I think you've got to be 20 or something to drink, though."

"Well that's bullocks! I s'pose we'll have to come back a couple years later?" She asked sadly.

Harry laughed, "Since when have you followed Muggle rules?"

Ginny brightened, "So we can go?"

"'Course. But, you know your mum's going to murder me."

"Whatever for?" She asked, even though she knew the answer very well.

"For corrupting your young, impressionable mind."

"Oh, darling... If only she knew the lengths to which you've corrupted me already. Young, impressionable mind, my arse." She laughed her musical laugh; a laugh that never failed to fill Harry with a sense of total contentment. Today it couldn't quite fill him with absolute happiness, and he thought that it would, if only his parents were alive to hear her laugh too.

Harry looked for the marble-white tombstones of his parent's graves. Now that he knew where to look, they shone like beacons in the moonlight, calling him home. He felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes, and he gulped, there really was no point holding them back... She seemed to know his feelings, as she moved closer to him, clutching his arm. He was left breathless at the quickness with which the mood had changed. He felt that he would literally collapse from the crushing grief as they neared the tombstones. He knew, however, that Ginny wasn't strong enough to hold him up without magic and so he squared his shoulders and walked on.

She squeezed his hand and whispered, "Which one is it, Harry?"

He swallowed, "The, uh, the white ones. Over – over there."

They reached the tombs in silence. Harry stared down at the graves of his parents, barely registering Ginny's gasp as she read the epitaph. Harry turned away from her, staring at his father's grave. He clutched Ginny's hand tighter as a strange pulling sensation swept through him, trying to pull him beneath the snow; but this time he didn't _want _to be with his parents, instead he wished they were with him, so they could see that their son was, finally, happy… And the reason(s) behind their son's happiness.

He couldn't contain the tears any longer. They slipped down his cheeks, freezing instantly in the cold. He felt stretched between two worlds: his dead parent's and his own. He clutched Ginny's hand tighter; she seemed to be the only thing tying him to this world. From a long distance away, he felt Ginny trying to pull her hand out from inside his. Harry's grip was so tight, she couldn't quite manage it. He stared morosely at the tombs as more tears spilled from his eyes to join those frozen on his cheeks. He wished he hadn't thrown the… his thought was interrupted by Ginny saying quietly, "Harry, you're hurting my hand."

He started, and let go of her hand as though it'd burned him. He looked down at her in surprise; he'd quite forgotten that he was holding her hand. "I – Sorry, Ginny… wasn't thinking." He took her hand again – gently, holding it as if it was fragile and could break at the slightest touch.

"It's alright," she said, her voice sounding a little wobbly; he hadn't realized that she'd been crying too.

He put an arm around her, sighing. "Gin, is it terribly morbid that sometimes I wish I hadn't thrown the Resurrection Stone away? I mean, granted only I'd be able to see them, but at least they'd be with me… I could actually talk to my parents… I could _live_ with my parents."

Harry could feel Ginny stiffen in his arms; he could see that he'd scared her (just like he'd scared Hermione) with his talk of living with the dead. She didn't say anything, though, so he let the subject rest, choosing not to think about the things he would've said if his parent's were here (as pale imitations of themselves or alive, he'd take them in any form). He made to leave but Ginny pulled back, Harry looked at her questioningly.

"I brought flowers." She said quietly, producing a Christmas wreath made of brilliantly scarlet poinsettia blossoms from underneath her robes. She crouched down beside him and placed the wreath in the middle of the two graves, brushing the snow off the marble tombstones with her ungloved hands. She stared at it for a moment more, running her hand over the words of the epitaph. She stood up then and took his hand. Harry looked down at the junction of their hands and saw a tear drop fall onto his wrist. He touched his cheeks in wonder, unsure whether he was still crying or not. He wasn't. He put his arm around Ginny's shoulders, kissing her temple.

"Thank you… For the wreath, for coming… for everything." His voice was a bit hoarse and he trailed off.

Ginny nodded, her lips pursed, surely holding back more tears.

Harry shook his head to clear it and wiped the tear tracks from his cheeks. Sighing, he gently steered Ginny out of the cemetery. As he closed the kissing-gate behind them he took one last look at his parents' graves; in the darkness, the glowing-white marble of the headstones was accentuated by a spot of crimson.

As he made to steer Ginny towards the pub, she pulled back, "On second thought, Harry, I don't much feel like drinking today… sorry."

Harry, who didn't feel like going to a loud, overcrowded pub either said, "Oh. Alright. Do you want to just go home then?"

Ginny looked around at their surroundings, unsure. "Actually, Harry…" she looked up at him timidly. "Isn't your… um house around here, somewhere?"

In his haste to go back to the Burrow and put this dismal night behind him, Harry had forgotten about the house. Instantly, he thought of the letter his mum had written Sirius… the house… He didn't much fancy going to that house…

Seeing the look on his face, Ginny said hastily "Never mind. We can come see it later. It's really getting quite late…" She pulled them both underneath the shade of a giant tree. Stepping closer to him, she whispered "Harry, Apparate us back, please." She hugged him, shivering slightly. He put his arms around her and his chin on top of her forehead; she tucked her head into the base of his neck, hugging his waist tighter… And he turned.

The next moment they were gasping for breath in front of the Burrow's gate.

Harry made to pull away from Ginny, but she held onto him tighter. She whispered, "I wish I could be alone with you right now."

"I know… We _are_ a bit early returning… And there's my empty flat waiting for us…"

Ginny looked up at him, "What's on your mind, Potter?"

Without another wasteful word, Harry turned again and Disapparated.

* * *

When they Apparated to 'The Bachelor Pad', however, they found that their idea to use the apartment as a sanctuary had also occurred to Ron and Hermione.

Ginny figured she'd be scarred for life... And she'd never sit on that couch again.

* * *

_Review please!! _

_I'm sorry for the inconvenience that the whole deleted-story thing has caused. I do miss seeing the '380' under the reviews section. Oh well... I assume you'll leave just as wonderful, if not wonderfuller (yes, i know that's not a word!), reviews this time around._

_Thank you for being the wonderful readers you are. Leave _something_ for me (i.e reviews)._

_Love, _

_Qtip. _


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